Stolen Heart
by Brynjolf
Summary: The Dragonborn arrives in Riften and is swiftly identified as someone that Brynjolf wants for his organisation -  F  Nord Dragonborn x Brynjolf - Contains swearing and mature themes. The penultimate chapter  Chapter 13  has been added!
1. Chapter 1: protégé

**Stolen Heart**

_By: Anonymous_

Dear reader, this may seem to be a cliché work of fiction, but let me assure you this story is true.

This is a tale of love and passion, struggling to grow in troubled times. Above all, it offers a curious insight in to the lives of those that call themselves the Thieves Guild.

So, allow me to recount this story as purely as I can, but naturally some of this is my own perspective and my own addition...

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><p>- Chapter 1: protégé -<p>

The Dragonborn, whose name is universally accepted as 'Cathryne', first entered Riften on Sundas, the 21st day of Mid Year. Having just finished slaying a dragon, she hauled the bones and scales towards the gloomy town in order to sell them.

What she found was Brynjolf.

At first he remained under the guise of a humble merchant, peddling somewhat dubious remedies to the citizens of Rften. His latest miracle cure was a Falmer Blood Elixir which promised the drinker numerous abilities such as the strength of a giant and the virile capacities of a Sabre Cat in the bedroom.

Such a potion was of no interest to the Dragonborn who was, after all, a capable alchemist. She paid the merchant no mind and went about peddling her dragon bones to the local blacksmith. However, as she walked through the quaint Riften market on her way to the blacksmith, Brynjolf called out to her;

"You there, lass, your coin purse is looking a little slim. How about filling it up?"

Confused by the sudden question, Cathryne replied "What?"

Brynjolf offered her a charming smile and repeated his question "Would you like to make some easy coin lass. I just need you to complete a minor task, don't worry I pay well for a good job."

Now, at this point (as far as we know), Cathryne was not possessed of the lax moral compass that the Dark Brotherhood or Thieves guild were known for, so she did not automatically agree to Brynjolf's proposition – perhaps this made her even more interesting to the keen-eyed 'merchant'. She stared him straight in the eye and asked "What is this task exactly?"

"Well … I need you to steal a ring from that Argonian Jeweller over there and plant it on that useless Dunmer over there. Think you're up to the challenge, lass?"

Dear reader, it is far from my place to assume what may have been running through the Dragonborn's head. Whether it was a desire for coin or simply the challenge, who can say? What I can say is that Cathryne accepted Brynjolf's proposal and set about planting the ring as requested.

Naturally, it was an easy task and the Dunmer became guilty of possessing the Argonian's ring. He served a good few weeks in prison for a crime he did not commit, but that was entirely the point, such are the machinations of the Thieves Guild…

With the trap sprung, Brynjolf approached his accomplice "An excellent job lass. Here's your payment, as promised." He held up a purse of gold coins, jingling it suggestively. "And, there's plenty more where this came from, if you're interested…"

Cathryne took the bag of gold, adding it to her own coin purse. She looked up and replied "I'm interested. Tell me more."

"Not here. We'll talk somewhere a little more private, after all, the streets of Riften do have ears. Meet me at the Ragged Flagon. If you're good enough to make it there, then we can talk about putting some more jobs – and more coin – your way."

With that Brynjolf turned and walked away, disappearing in to the hustle and bustle of Riften's central marketplace. Cathryne watched him depart and then set about gathering information on the Ratways which, in turn, would lead her to The Ragged Flagon…

The Dragonborn arrived, and was surprised to find the mercantile guise that Brynjolf had introduced himself with was nothing more than a facade. Before her was a handsome, lithe man, swathed in the dark leathers of a thief.

Brynjolf was sat in The Ragged Flagon, amongst several dubious looking characters, they were engaging in rowdy banter and, from what she could hear, it was clear that Brynjolf was talking about her. She approached the small gathering, he looked up and grinned "Well colour me impressed, you made it lass"

Cathryne nodded, truth be told; when compared to a dragon, the few vagrants that had crossed her path were nothing. She muttered "It wasn't that hard to get here…"

Upon hearing such powerful words, Brynjolf slapped his thigh and laughed heartily "Talented and headstrong? You're turning out to be quite the prize!"

With that, having introduced her to the Guild Master, Mercer Frey, Brynjolf set Cathryne a further task with the goal of proving her worth to the rest of his allies – the rest of the Thieves Guild…

~ End Chapter 1 ~

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><p><em>Phew! My first fanfic! I'd like to get some feedback but please don't flame me, I burn easily! ^^;<em>


	2. Chapter 2: Thick as Thieves

Dear reader,

We left this story at the point where the Dragonborn, Cathryne, had been identified as a useful addition to the Thieves Guild by Brynjolf, a dubious merchant and member of the infamous guild.

I hope you will continue to enjoy this story as it unfolds…

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><p><strong>Stolen Heart<strong>

_By: Anonymous_

- Chapter 2: Thick as Thieves -

Months had passed since Cathryne and Brynjolf met.

Whilst Cathryne worked hard to earn her place in the guild and forge bonds between herself and the rest of her comrades, there was a notable bond forming between herself and Brynjolf. A flirtatious closeness that one would not associate with ruthless thieves, the two would frequently exchange winks, glances and whispered words..

One evening, after completing yet another job for Vex, Cathryne returned to the Ragged Flagon and dropped a coin purse, the size of a human skull, on the table where Brynjolf, Vex and Delvin were sitting.

The coin purse opened and several gleaming diamonds spilled out on to the rotting wood surface.

Everyone at the table sat up to attention.

"By the Gods, lass." Brynjolf exclaimed "What is this?"

"The rewards of a little tomb raiding." She replied, with a grin "On my way back from a burglary job I found a crypt and decided to explore… Sometimes it's nice to do something a little less illegal…"

Brynjolf laughed loudly "Aye lass, it seems to be a profitable little hobby too."

"Geez. That's a lot of sparkle." Delvin muttered, rolling his gnarled fingers over the glittering stones. "I know someone who would sell us his mother and then some to get glitter like this, and he's a real mama's boy!"

Brynjolf picked up one of the stones and held it up to the light of a candle "Hmmm, flawless like a certain lass who is out to impress…"

Suddenly a hand lashed out and scooped up the coin purse. It was Mercer, the leader of the Guild. "I'll take these and put them in the vault."

"Spoil sport…" Delvin muttered, folding his arms.

"At least our latest stash will be safe in the vault." Brynjolf replied with a chuckle. "A job well done, lass, That haul should help us weather a bit of this bad storm we've been having lately."

Cathryne knew that the guild had fallen on hard times, many of her comrades spoke of the "old days" and how good they had been. She was disappointed that she had not had the chance to see the guild in all its splendour, but everyone was certain that the glory days could be restored if they continued to complete jobs and bring in gold.

She smiled happily "Glad to have helped! I think I'll go and have a bath, the smell of the undead isn't really that becoming."

Vex slid something her way "Here. A bit of scented oil… you've earned it after that stash."

She smiled at Vex "Thanks." Taking the oil she walked off to bathe.

That evening, after her bath in the near by river surrounding Riften, Cathryne returned to the guild via the hidden graveyard entrance. Her hair was still damp, so she vigorously rubbed it with a towel as she walked down the dingy Ratway corridors.

"Ah! My sister in crime!" A familiar voice caught her attention, it was Rune, a fellow guild member with an unusual name. He told her that he acquired it from the man who salvaged him from a shipwreck.

"Rune…" She smiled "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. How are you doing?" It was no secret that Rune had a particular fondness for Cathryne.

"I'm very well, thank you."

"I hear you got quite the stash for us! A bag of diamonds as big as a man's skull! That's a very impressive feat!" He was beaming happily.

"Well, if it helps the guild."

"Oh I'm sure it will. Mercer actually looked pleased, for once…" Rune smiled sheepishly "Um well… I just wanted to say well done!"

"Thanks." Cathryne smiled back and walked away. She sat down on her bed with an unceremonious flop and sighed out.

Her whole body tensed as silent hands curled around her shoulders from behind. Moments later, she was relaxing under one of Brynjolf's famed massages – the man was good with his hands as one might expect from a thief.

"My my lass. You are tense tonight aren't you?" Brynjolf murmured, close to her ear.

She closed her eyes and allowed him to continue kneading her back "I suppose I am. Not that I had even noticed."

"Aye… Sometimes the constant flow of jobs can do that."

"Yes. It's been a while since I just went off in to the wilderness and let the land guide me towards somewhere or something. Lately I've been putting a lot of energy in to helping the guild." She hesitated slightly – the guild paid her well for her work. It wasn't an act of kindness.

He chuckled deeply "Ah. Feeling guilty for complaining about your lot, eh? Well don't be. We're entitled to complain when things get too samey."

"I suppose so." She said, before sighing "Thank you, Bryn. I feel much better now."

"Old Bryn's hands worked a little more of their magic, eh?" he grinned.

"Not only that. I mean for listening to me, too." Cathryne shifted on the bed and turned to look at him.

He shook his head "The pleasure is all mine, lass. I'll gladly listen to you all day."

"I appreciate that."

"You know… Our earlier conversation, got me to thinking." Brynjolf said, with arms folded.

"Thinking? Of what?"

"How about you and me go on a little adventure, a little tomb raiding eh? It seemed like you really enjoyed the chance to go somewhere with less guards and more sparkly treasures, right?"

She looked at him, surprised at first then with a big smile across her lips "You really want to go in to a dangerous Nordic crypt with me?"

"Sure. Why not? It sounds like it could even be fun." he winked at her and stood up "Let me know when the fancy takes you and we'll sneak away."

"Alright!"

She climbed in to bed as the moon spilled in to the Cistern through the holes in the ceiling, and pondered about Brynjolf's offer…

~End of Chapter 2~

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><p>Whilst waiting for the 2 day ban on posting stories, I ended up writing the first few chapters... So the same as last time, I look forward to feedback but I'm still highly flammable so no flames please! ^^;<p> 


	3. Chapter 3: Entombed

Dear reader,

Our next chapter contains some crude, but necessary, language. Please ensure you're of the appropriate age and/or disposition to see such words… On we go, then, to a harrowing moment for Bynjolf and the Dragonborn…

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><p><strong>Stolen Heart<strong>

_By: Anonymous_

- Chapter 3: Entombed -

A few days later, Brynjolf was reclining on one of the Ragged Flagon's chairs. The chair was precariously balanced on a single leg as he leaned back. A dagger twirled lazily between his fingers and he watched as dingy light bounced back and forth over the smooth ebony edge.

This was his favourite blade, his "Bonnie Lass". It was the first thing he had ever stolen and he had taken great lengths, and spent a great deal of coin, to have it enchanted by the best enchanters and refined by the greatest blacksmiths.

He had even visited the great Eorlund Grey-Mane who honed the dagger to legendary quality.

Something caught his eye in the reflection that gleamed off his blade's edge.

Catheryn walked over "Byrn…"

He looked up at her, eyes glittering "Is it time lass? Are you itching to travel?"

"Yes." She smiled "Let's go wandering."

"Aye. Let's go, then." He got up and looked to Vekel "I'm going out on a quick job with this one. Be back later."

"Alright Bryn." Vekel nodded, and resumed his sweeping of the Flagon's floor.

That evening, under a cloudy sky, they snuck away from the guild and out of Riften. For a while they wandered the vast, woody surroundings of the town before pressing on in a northerly direction towards the more open plains. Cathryne looked around, beaming happily as they travelled.

Brynjolf chuckled "Look at you lass. Looking as bonnie as a wee bairn with a sweetroll."

She looked at him and giggled "Really? Is it that obvious that I'm enjoying myself?"

"Aye. Plain as day." He stretched slightly "Still, I must admit this wild outdoors thing is quite liberating… and the company is… breathtaking."

Glancing back at him, she offered him a grin "Charmer."

"In my line of work it helps."

"I suppose it does." She nodded.

The forest began to thin, and they soon found that they had wandered off the cobblestone path, not that it mattered. They pressed on further until their stroll was disturbed by an unexpected blast of flame. Both of them looked sharply upwards and saw a conjurer stood there with her hands aglow.

"Back off!" She snarled, bearing her teeth and looking more like a wild beast than a woman.

"Woah…" Cathryne frowned "What's going on?"

"It seems we're unwanted, lass. I wonder why? What's this mage hiding? Something valuable, or maybe something dangerous. Either way, it might be good for the guild if we find out…"

"Hmmm." Cathryne drew her Ebony bow and reached for a few steel arrows "Fine. Let's sort her out before she burns us to a crisp. Then we can have a look at what's going on around here."

"Agreed." Brynjolf unsheathed his dagger and swiftly dashed forward. He caught the mage by surprise and drove his dagger in to her gut. She began healing the wound desperately, but an arrow to her neck caused her body to convulse before collapsing. "Your aim is deadly…" Brynjolf mused as Cathryne approached "Now I'm worried the Dark Brotherhood might steal you away."

"Ha! Don't I have to agree to join them?" she asked.

"I suppose so. I can't say I really know." Brynjolf replied.

"Well. I have no intention of leaving the Thieves Guild. I happen to like it very much, thank you! There's plenty of reasons to stick around." Her eyes glittered mischievously as she looked at him.

"Good. Let's hope it stays that way and you never get bored of us." Brynjolf put his dagger away and crouched down beside the fallen mage "Hmm. Not a lot on her…"

Cathryne looked around "I've got a feeling."

"A feeling?" He looked up at her "What?"

Cathryne looked intently at a cluster of rocks "A feeling that this isn't what it seems to be… I think there may be something behind there."

"It's the side of a mountain, lass." Brynjolf walked over and tapped it. A hollow sound echoed back "Well strike me down." He muttered "You've got a keen eye."

"It looks similar to some fake walls I've seen in Nordic tombs. There must be a switch around here somewhere."

"Aye. Let's seek it out."

The two began to search for a switch to open the faux stone wall, however it was surprisingly well concealed. Brynyolf sighed deeply and leaned against the rocky wall, despite looking for a switch or button, there was no sign of any such mechanism. He watched as Cathryne continued to search eagerly.

Finally she let out an "Ah ha!" which was promptly followed by a rather loud "click".

Brynjolf blinked as the wall behind him jerked and moved, moments later he fell back in to a gaping tunnel "Woah!" Luckily his swift reflexes stopped him from falling flat on his arse, but it had been a fairly close call.

Cathryne trotted over "Sorry!" she called out.

"No harm done, lass. Now it would seem that we have a tomb to explore, don't we?"

"Yes we do!" She stalked ahead, drawing her ebony bow "Come on Bryn, let's find some treasure."

"Now you're speaking my language."

They stealthily swept down in to the inner bowels of the Nordic tomb, passing through tight, claustrophobic caverns and vast subterranean chambers. At first Brynjolf was awed by the sheer size of the crypt, it did not look so vast from the outside. Then, he noticed the more intricate little details such as the ornately carved stonework and finely crafted tools.

Though macabre, he also noted how well preserved the ancient Nords were – albeit smelly and foul-looking. Their skin was pale as snow, tinted with a distinct blue tone and a network of veins. He could see every bone in their body, even their teeth, all barely concealed by the thin sheet of skin that enfolded each cadaver.

As they entered yet another generously sized room, their progress was halted by an ancient Nordic puzzle. Brynjolf had a hard time understanding what a Whale, Eagle or Snake had to do with anything but he noticed that Cathryne seemed unperturbed by the glyphs and was looking around the room.

"Any ideas, lass?" he called over.

"Yes. This is a door puzzle. I've seen a couple. We need to look around for clues."

"Clues?" he folded his arms "It's not like they're going to just give us the answer, is it?"

Cathryne pointed above his head "They do."

Brynjolf turned and saw that there was a carved face of a bearded Nordic male behind him, with an exaggerated mouth. Within the mouth was a glyph; an eagle. Then to the left of that, another carving and another glyph – this time a snake.

"I see…" he said "So these are our clues."

"That's right. So it's Eagle then Snake." Cathryne twirled the two obelisks then pulled the lever. The heavy iron portcullis opened and they resumed their descent in to the crypt.

The vast, impressive chambers mutated in to tightly packed necropolises. Shelves upon Shelves of Draugr like books stacked in an overfilled bookcase. Occasionally Cathryne shot arrows in to the sleeping dead, which initially Brynjolf found perverse, until one of the buggers slid out from its resting place and attempted to behead him with a rusty axe. From that point onwards shooting the dead seemed completely reasonable.

The packed corridors gave way to a vast central tomb – the most decorative and impressive room in the entire crypt. For a few moments they both stood quietly and admired the decorative space.

"It's the most well preserved tomb I've seen." Cathryne said, quietly.

"It's amazing. To think our ancestors had this much ability… how breathtaking" Brynjolf replied.

"Well… This is a tomb for one who loyally served the dragons, I suppose they would be well rewarded with a fine resting place in exchange for enslaving their own people."

Brynjolf scoffed and looked at her "Dragons huh… Do you really believe in them?"

"Yes. I do." Cathryne replied.

"You sound pretty certain, lass. How comes?"

Cathryne pulled something from a pouch on her hip, she held it out to him "Here. A little evidence for you."

Byrnjolf plucked it from her hand "What is this?" he held it up to the light that poured in to the tomb from a hole overhead. The object looked like some sort of scale but it glistened with the same lustre as a gemstone.

"It's a dragon's scale." Cathryne replied, her tone serious.

Brynjolf wanted to laugh and ask her if she was joking, but the look in her eyes and her voice told him that this was no ruse. He blinked "So this… is a dragon's scale? And tell me, lass, how does one come across such a beautiful object?"

"By slaying a dragon." Another serious answer.

This time Brynjolf let out a little spluttering choke and gave her a hard look – he still couldn't see even a glint of a lie in her eyes "Slaying…? You mean to tell me you've fought with a dragon, and lived?"

"Yes. I… am Dragonborn." She said, turning away from him.

"What…?" Brynjolf may have been a master of deceit and scheming, but he was unable to disguise his complete and utter shock as he stared at her.

"I can claim the souls of dragons after defeating them. I can use their language, and the Thu'um, Shouts, to defeat my enemies." She sat down on a lump of stone "I can say with certainty that dragons are real and they exist, because I've killed a few of them now."

"My my lass… this is quite a development!" Brynjolf exclaimed, joining her on the stone. He patted her head fondly "But. It changes absolutely nothing."

She looked at him "Huh?"

"Whether you can kill dragons or not, it wouldn't change the fact that you're a first class thief and whether dragons are real or not, won't stop us from doing right by the guild."

She smiled at him "Bryn… Thank you!"

"Ha. Never you mind, lass. I told you that I like listening to you." He returned her smile "So, it seems I know a little bit more about our mysterious new member… Aren't I privileged."

"Oh shush." She grumbled "I'm not that mysterious. Just another Nord woman."

"Ha, now I already knew that was a bare faced lie but now I know for sure that's a load of horker shit!"

"Hey!" She slapped his shoulder "What have I told you about swearing?"

"Don't." he smirked.

"You're impossible, Bryn!"

"That's what all the ladies tell me." He pushed himself up off the stone and turned to look at her "Well. Let's find us some loot, eh?"

"Alright." She stood up too.

It was then, that a sickening sound filled the air; the sound of some sort of seal breaking, the sound of stone scraping against stone followed by the heavy clunk of a coffin lid hitting the floor.

The central grave, the most ornate and grandeur of all, was opening…

~End of Chapter 3~

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><p>Please steel yourselves, in the next chapter I butcher the Dragon Language... ^^;<p>

(Still highly flammable! 3)


	4. Chapter 4: Burried Alive

Dear reader,

Things get a bit more amorous in this next chapter, though I am sure that if you have perused the Lusty Argonian Maid by Crassius Curio then you are more than able to cope with what is contained here.

The two thieves now find themselves faced with something rising from its ancient slumber, from a tomb more grandeur than any they've seen thus far. Surely, this is the sign of something terrible...?

**To note**: I have attempted to include passages in the ancient tongue of Dragons. I, myself, am no scholar of the language and therefore cannot attest to its accuracy. In addition I have provided translations to the Draconian phrases - **the characters in the story (unless noted otherwise) do not understand the Draconian words being spoken to them**. The translations have been added for your enjoyment of the story.

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><p><strong>Stolen Heart<strong>

_By: Anonymous_

- Chapter 4: Buried Alive -

The black coffin was open and a deep snarl filled the air as a haunting form emerged from the grave with eyes of insipid, ethereal blue and tattered robes befitting a hideous lich.

"What… is that?" Brynjolf whispered whilst readying himself for a fight.

"Of all the luck… It's a Dragon Priest…" Cathryne hissed, readying her bow.

"A dragon what now?" Brynjolf rolled to the side with force and barely managed to evade a sudden bolt of lightning.

"A Dragon Priest. They're the ones I mentioned, the servants of the dragons… they're deadly and very powerful, as you might expect!"

"I can see that!" another bolt of lightning lashed out, destroying some near by stoneware. Brynjolf scrambled away from the deadly magic attack and out of view. He crouched down low and slowly started to strafe around the beastly mage's coffin.

Cathryne shot arrows at the skeletal figure and drew its attention to her. The priest loomed up and fired several bolts of lightning at her as it spoke in ancient tongue, Brynjolf could not understand a word but assumed it to be ancient Nordic.

"Nu dir mey!" (Now die fool) it hissed in guttural tones, lightning lashing at the floor and walls like great jagged claws.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!" Cathryne called out strongly. The moment she began to weave together the shout, a great plume of fire manifested and struck the priest.

The mage recoiled with a groan of pain as its concentration was broken. At that moment Brynjolf took his chance and lunged from the shadows. He gripped the priest from behind and drove his dagger deeply through the back of its strange plated robes and deep in to its core. At the same time, Cathryne notched three arrows against her bow string and fired them at the Priest, striking it in the forehead, the neck and the chest.

There was a sharp, sudden scream like nails on ivory which screeched in the very depths of their ears. The haunting figure started to sink towards the floor, its skeletal body already turning to ashes. As it perished, it gave Cathryne a final glare before bursting in to tiny fragments of glowing ultraviolet.

Its haunting, ragged voice lingered in the air, though the meaning was lost on both the master thief and the Dragonborn:

"Orin ol dinok meyze fah zu, faal aar, lot Alduin nahl nau"

(Even as death comes for I, the servant, great Alduin lives on)

"Now that… was scary… Perhaps this tomb raiding lark isn't quite as easy as I thought…" Brynjolf said, sheathing his dagger and leaning against the empty coffin. "I'm exhausted and more than ready for my treasure!"

"Yeah." Cathryne wiped her brow and let out a small sigh of relief "I still don't like it when one of those priests emerges from one of these coffins…"

"I'll say. We're lucky we got through that."

"Agreed, anyway... let's look for some treasure." Cathryne crouched before the Dragon Priest and, after sifting through some of the ashes, held up a small, intricately sewn coin purse "Looks like he had some gold on him." She tossed it to Brynjolf.

He caught it and began counting "100… 200… 300… by the divines themselves. There's at least 500 septims here!"

"Well, that should be a start towards making that battle worthwhile, eh?" Cathryne continued to sift through the ashes.

"Mmm. Yes. It's a start, I'll give it that!" Brynjolf said as he pushed himself up from his leaning spot. He was about to speak, when something caught his attention – voices;

"'Ere, look! More of 'ems dead!" A deep Nordic male voice, it sounded like a bandit.

"Well I ain't gonna complain, let's get to that main chamber already and get ourselves some gold!"

"Wot if there ain't no more loot?"

"It ain't like we've had to fight anything, awrite? So, no harm done. Now shaddup and let's get in 'ere! If we're lucky we might even catch the tomb raiders before they run off and get their hard earned treasures for ourselves!"

There was a chorus of cruel laughs and agreements at the last bandit's words.

The sound of numerous footsteps neared the doors of the central chamber. Brynjolf and Cathryne exchanged glances, Brynjolf was silently counting.

"five… six… seven… eight… nine… ten…" he mouthed. There were at least ten bandits heading in their direction.

Cathryne grumbled "I won't be able to Shout them away… I need time to ready my voice… Damnit…"

"I must admit I'm not relishing an all out war with two to ten odds, though I reckon we could take them if it came to it…"

Cathryne frowned "Ugh. I don't like the idea of those odds either at this moment in time…"

Brynjolf looked around and noticed another, more modest coffin. He smirked at Cathryne and gestured for her to follow him "Come on. If we don't feel like fighting, let's just avoid it."

She followed his gaze and quirked an eyebrow at him "What the…? In –there–?"

"Get in already or else it's a wild night with the bandits!" Brynjolf pulled the lid off the coffin. It was a decent size and would (just about) accommodate the pair of them. Furthermore, he noticed that a king's ransom in garnets, amethysts and gold coins was stashed at the bottom.

Cathryne looked at the empty grave, she sighed deeply, and was about to ask him how they should go about getting inside when Bynjolf's boot firmly nudged her from behind. With a yelp she tumbled and twirled in to the treasure filled box, landing on her back. She saw Brynjolf climbing in over her with the lid of the coffin on his back.

Darkness engulfed them as he settled on top of her "Hmm. Well isn't this…cozy, lass?" he mused with a chuckle.

She jabbed his side and hissed "What's the big idea pushing me in like that!"

Suddenly the thunderous sound of the crypt doors being kicked open filled the air. Brynjolf covered Cathryne's mouth with his hand and whispered "Shhh". The footsteps scattered and the sounds of knives, swords and other weapons being drawn echoed around the vaulted ceiling.

"Shit. Looks like the raiders are long gone…" muttered a bandit.

"An' it looks like they looted this fancy old coffin too!" shouted another, snarling out "Bastards… There ain't not loot for us!"

"Well keep lookin'! There's gotta be somethin! Even a few garnets or gold or somethin'!"

Numerous pairs of boots traipsed around the room, along with the sound of the bandits moving rubble and smashing pots whilst swearing like daedra-possessed heathens.

Within their shared coffin, Brynjolf could feel Cathryne breathing against his hand. He was so close he could feel her warmth and smell the scented oils that Vex had given her; the soft sweet scent of Mountain Flowers.

He felt her shift beneath him, now that he thought about it; he should have climbed in first as he was heavier than her. She was probably uncomfortable. He felt her hand move up close to his face, then his ears were tickled by the unmistakable _thrum_ of magic as it manifested in her palm. She created a tiny orb of candlelight and illuminated the coffin so that he could see her and she could see him. The golden bed they laid upon filled the dark coffin with a soft yellowish glow.

He grinned at her and whispered "You know… I think getting this up close and personal to you might just be the best treasure of the lot." He moved his hand away from her mouth.

"Again with the charms?" she whispered back.

"Oh I'm not trying to deceive you, lass. I'm telling you the truth, for once."

His voice was tinged with a seriousness that he rarely used. He preferred to keep his inner most thoughts to himself and would mask those thoughts and feelings with an air of insincerity and jocularity. Naturally, when the situation required it he could be focused, professional and all sorts of other things, but it was always far easier to avoid those moments.

"I believe you." She replied, her eyes were equally serious.

They laid together in the coffin staring at one another, whilst the bandits raided the tomb around them. Neither one spoke for a while, an unspoken feeling formed, a feeling that they both shared.

Brynjolf leaned down, his lips neared hers and when she didn't back away he took his chance and kissed her.

Cathryne reached out and laced her hands with his. Her eyes closed as she submitted to his mouth. The first few kisses were soft, light brushes of lips but gradually theye developed from naïve and slow to urgent and deep. His tongue explored her mouth and in return she groaned against him.

Breathless moments passed and though he was reluctant to do so, he parted from her in order to breathe. The light that she had created was beginning to die down, but he could still see the glint of desire in her eyes which was mimicked in his own. Neither of them said a word as they held the others gaze.

The candlelight spell disappeared in to the ether and they were plunged in to total darkness once more.

"Bryn…" She whispered.

"… Damnit all." He muttered. His voice was filled with a smile as he spoke "When did you creep in and steal my heart, lass?"

"I think it was the same time you stole mine." She replied.

"Is that right? Well. That's a fair trade, then, your heart for mine." He stooped down for another kiss.

In the depths of the ancient, unnamed Nordic tomb, the master thief stole the Dragonborn's heart and laid his permanent mark on her body, within their grave-bed of golden coins and sparkling gemstones…

The bandits eventually gave up their pursuit of treasure and began to leave the tomb.

As they left, one of them muttered "Y'know… I'm glad we're leavin'… that moanin' sound the Draugr are makin' is really creepin' me out…"

"Yeah… Sounds pretty eager don't it?" another one replied, looking around for signs of the moaning dead.

~ End Chapter 4 ~

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><p>Well there we are, this will be the last entry before New Year! I'm currently working on Chapter 5 and in the next chapter we'll see a bit of the wicked Mercer Frey (you can boo now if you like!) ^^<p> 


	5. Chapter 5: Punishment

Dear reader,

Through their combined efforts the Dragonborn and the master thief, Brynjolf, managed to escape certain death at the hands of a Dragon Priest.

Perhaps such life threatening moments awaken unbridled passion in even the most stoic of persons because after the battle they ended up consecrating their love in that very crypt.

Now, however, an equally dangerous foe threatens them and the bond they have forged...

* * *

><p><strong>Stolen Heart<strong>

_By: Anonymous_

- Chapter 5: Punishment -

The two returned to Riften, both carrying hefty pouches filled with gold and jewels. They passed the empty marketplace and headed directly to the graveyard. Brynjolf nudged the Thief's crest with his foot and the tombstone-entrance slid open. They descended the stairs and entered the guild.

Brynjolf looked at her as they alighted from the rickety old ladder and smiled softly "I can't quite describe how I feel. I guess, happy? But it doesn't seem enough to say that."

"It's alright. I feel the same and you don't need to find some scholarly way to say it, either."

"You see, lass! That's why I love you." He laughed and leaned down to lay a kiss on her jawbone. His lips trailed lower to her neck. His voice was a gravely rumble against her skin "Damnit to the Daedra… I want you, again."

"Again?" she replied, feigning shock "You're insatiable Bryn…"

"Well you only have yourself to blame, lass. You make me this way."

"Hmmm. I wonder what the punishment is for doing this to you?"

"Well of course, the only answer is to give me what I want…" he scooped her up in to his arms and promptly dropped her over the nearest accommodating object: the Guild Master's table.

Cathryne laughed softly as Brynjolf laid her down, she reached out and slid her hands in to his hair "Bryn…"

"Oh don't call my name like that, lass… I don't think I can take it." he smirked at her and stole another kiss, this time from her lips.

"Really?" her eyes glittered wickedly "But… what if I want you to lose control?"

"AHEM." Their moment atop the Guild Master's table was cut painfully short by a loud clearing of someone's throat behind them.

They both tensed, sharing an uneasy glance, the source of the cough was obvious and neither of them wanted to turn and confront that glowering face. In the end Brynjolf stood up and looked to his side "Mercer… I can explain…"

"Oh. Well this ought to be good." Mercer spat back, eyes ablaze "What the hell are you two playing at?" he eyed Cathryne "I can almost forgive it from you, you're new and perhaps you haven't had chance to learn all of the Guild's rules but you…" Mercer's furious eyes turned to Brynjolf "You should know better."

"Mercer… we're all adults here and adults have desires." Brynjolf replied.

"Ha don't feed me the same mammoth shit you peddle about in the Riften Market, Brynjolf. I won't be fooled by it. You know full well that after the last Guild Master's untimely demise, I set the rule that Guild Members should not engage in sexual relationships together!" Mercers voice was low, but filled with venom as he looked between the two.

Brnjolf rubbed his head and sighed deeply "Well, what are you going to do, Mercer? Kick me out? Lynch me? I may be full of mammoth shit, as you put it, but I am still an asset to this guild… I'm still the second in command."

"Don't try my patients, Brynjolf!" Mercer looked at Cathryne "You know. You're still new here, even if you have done a few goods jobs…"

"Mercer don't even think about it! I came on to her." Brynjolf replied.

"Ha… She didn't say no, did she?"

"Mercer…" Cathryne sat up from the table "Go ahead and give me a punishment, if that's what you're getting at."

"Hmmm. You're obnoxiously sharp, aren't you? Fine. This time, it's a warning. If I find you and Brynjolf doing anything other than working then you'll find yourself out of this guild." Mercer folded his arms and looked thoughtful for a moment "As for your punishment… Well… I'll issue it to you in the morning. After all, I'd hate to miss this chance to put you in your place."

Brynjolf began to step forward, but Cathryne held his arm. He looked at her and she shook her head.

Mercer walked away, leaving the two in silence.

"… Sorry. I just think it's best to let him vent and scheme. Arguing with him seems to answer nothing." She said, holding his hand "As for his threats… I don't intend to listen to them."

"Nor do I, lass. We'll just need to be a little more… sneaky."

She smiled brightly "I suppose this will be good training."

"Aye. That it will." He bent down and kissed her forehead "Whatever punishment he has planned, I'll be sure to thwart it lass. Don't you worry."

"Bryn… provided it's fair, I'll face it head on."

"This is Mercer we're talking about. It won't be remotely fair. It'll probably be impossible and at the least, life threatening."

"Well bring it on." She replied with a grin "We defeated a Dragon Priest, I doubt Mercer can do worse."

Brynjolf looked away, for a moment he frowned "I hope you're right lass…" then he looked back at her and smiled "Now. I think we should go to bed, before I get another taste for you…" he kissed her lips and walked to one of the vacant beds.

Cathryne took the one next to him and closed her eyes, allowing sleep to claim her.

The next morning she received a harsh awakening in the form of ice cold sewer water being splashed in her face. She sat up with a yelp of shock and wiped her eyes clear of the foul liquid.

"What the?"

"Rise and shine." It was Mercer.

"Mercer…" she frowned and looked up at him.

"Now. I've thought up a suitable punishment, I hope you're still willing to take it? Otherwise, you're leaving the guild."

"I'll take whatever you've got!" she growled back.

"You see? It's that damned defiance that I'm going to break out of you, Cathryne. You'll learn to respect your betters." Mercer turned on his heel "Let's go."

She got up slowly and donned her guild armour. A sense of dread started to fill her stomach as she followed Mercer through the silent, empty Cistern. She noted, absently, that there was no daylight spilling in through the boarded up ceiling-well. Was it still night time? This realisation did nothing to calm the swirling unease.

"Perceptive as ever. Yeah. I've got you up in the middle of the night so that we can have this little talk without the rest of the guild around. You've done well in forging some strong bonds and a bit of a name for yourself down here and whilst I usually encourage that… you're proving to be a thorn in my side." Mercer's voice was as frosty as an enchanted blade.

"I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not going to beg you for forgiveness. I will complete any task you set me, but I won't be sorry for what has happened…" a fierceness started to overtake the sickening feeling – as much as she wanted to remain in the Thieves Guild and be part of this 'family', she did not want to let Mercer bully her.

He smirked at her, which promptly drained the fiery emotions from her eyes "I know. You're not sorry but you will be. I have a job for you."

"A job?"

"Yes. Failure is almost guaranteed and if you fail, you'll be spending the rest of forever in a cell."

"What's the job?"

"I want you to steal Maven Black Briar's most treasured possession. The Statue of Zenithar. I don't know how she managed it, but that statue is enchanted and turns flawed gemstones in to flawless ones… I don't need to explain to you how good that could be for the Guild's wealth."

"Steal…? From Maven Black Briar?" Cathryne knew this was nothing short of a death sentence. She could see the sneer in Mercer's eyes, he wanted her to fail but if she succeeded then he stood to gain greatly. Either way, he would come out with something he wanted. Her punishment and imprisonment, or a precious artefact. "You… bastard!" she hissed.

"Do you get it now? You don't cross Mercer Frey and get away with it, stupid girl. I always win in the end." He turned and started to walk, but then stopped and turned around "Oh and one more thing. If you mention this to anyone in the Guild, including your lover boy Bryn, then I'll have word sent to Maven about how I intercepted your plot to steal her Statue of Zenithar and… I have acquired written exchanges between you and Brynjolf which would corroborate my side of the story…" he held up a few letters for her to see. "So, happy hunting, Cathryne! I'll ask them to spare you the axe man's block as a 'favour' to the guild."

Cathryne watched him disappear, she could hear him snickering to himself. For a few moments she stood in the dingy corridor and looked at the floor. Her thoughts were swimming and she was reeling from the task at hand. She was going to steal a precious artefact from Maven Black Briar. She was going steal from the most influential person in Riften – probably one of the most influential in all of Skyrim and if she failed, she was going to hang for it.

This was different to the head-on fights with Dragons and their Priests. This was a colder, more calculating sort of a fight and one that she was not quite so qualified for. She couldn't FUS RO DAH her way out of it and she couldn't implicate the rest of the guild in this mess, either.

"Alright, Mercer." She took a deep breathe "Game on…"

~ End of Chapter 5~

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><p>I just wanted to say a big thanks to those of you who have commented on and favourited this story. I'm so happy to see that you're enjoying this! Thank you very much! ^^<p>

- Chapter 5: Punishment -

The two returned to Riften both carrying pouches of gold and jewels. They passed the empty marketplace and headed directly to the graveyard. Brynjolf nudged the Thief's crest with his foot and the tombstone-entrance slid open. They descended the stairs and entered the guild.

Brynjolf looked at her as they alighted from the rickety old ladder he smiled softly "I can't quite describe how I feel. I guess happy? But it doesn't seem enough to say that."

"It's alright. I feel the same and you don't need to find some scholarly way to say it, either."

"You see, lass. That's why I love you." He laughed and leaned down to lay a kiss on her jawbone. His lips trailed lower to her neck. His voice was a gravely rumble against her skin "Damn it to the Daedra… I want you, again."

"Again?" she replied, feigning shock "You're insatiable Bryn…"

"Well you only have yourself to blame, lass. You make me this way."

"Hmmm. I wonder what the punishment is for doing this to you?"

"Well of course, the only answer is to give me what I want…" he scooped her up in to his arms and promptly dropped her over the nearest accommodating object – the Guild Master's table.

Catheryne laughed softly as Brynjolf laid her down, she reached out and slid her hands in to his hair "Bryn…"

"Oh don't call my name like that, lass… I don't think I can take it." he smirked at her and stole another kiss, this time from her lips.

"Oh?" her eyes glittered wickedly "But… what if I want you to lose control?"

"AHEM." Their moment atop the Guild Master's table was cut painfully short by a loud clearing of someone's throat behind them.

Both thieves tensed, sharing an uneasy glance – the source of the cough was obvious and neither of them wanted to turn and confront that glowering face. In the end Brynjolf stood up and looked to his side "Mercer… I can explain…"

"Oh. Well this ought to be good." Mercer spat back, eyes ablaze "What the hell are you two playing at?" he eyed Catheryne "I can almost forgive it from you, you're new and perhaps you haven't had chance to learn all of the Guild's rules but you…" Mercer's furious eyes turned to Brynjolf "You should know better."

"Mercer… we're all adults here and adults have desires." Brynjolf replied.

"Ha don't feed me the same mammoth shit you peddle up in the Riften Market, Brynjolf. I won't be fooled by it. You know full well that after the last Guild Master's untimely demise, I set the rule that Guild Members should not engage in sexual relationships together!" Mercers voice was low, but filled with venom as he looked between the two.

Brnjolf rubbed his head and sighed deeply "Well, what are you going to do, Mercer? Kick me out? Lynch me? I may be full of mammoth shit, as you say, but I am still an asset to this guild…"

"Don't try my patients, Brynjolf!" Mercer looked at Cathryne "You know. You're still new here, even if you'd done a few goods jobs…"

"Mercer don't even think about it. I came on to her." Brynjolf replied.

"Ha… She didn't say no, did she?"

"Mercer…" Cathryne sat up from the table "Go ahead and give me a punishment, if that's what you're getting at."

"Hmmm. You're obnoxiously sharp, aren't you? Fine. This time, it's a warning. If I find you and Brynjolf don't anything other than working then you'll find yourself out of a job." Mercer folded his arms and looked thoughtful for a moment "As for your punishment… Well… I'll issue it to you in the morning. After all, I'd hate to miss this chance to put you in your place."

Brynjolf began to step forward, but Cathryne held his arm. He looked at her and she shook her head.

Mercer walked away, leaving the two in silence.

"… Sorry. I just think it's best to let him vent and scheme. Arguing with him seems to answer nothing." She finally said, holding his hand "As for his threats… I don't intend to listen to them."

"Nor do I, lass. We'll just need to be a little more… sneaky."

She smiled brightly "I suppose this will be good training."

"Aye. That it will." He bent down and kissed her forehead "Whatever punishment he has planned, I'll be sure to thwart it lass. Don't you worry."

"Bryn… provided it's fair, I'll face it head on."

"This is Mercer we're talking about. It won't be remotely fair. It'll probably be impossible and at the least, life threatening."

"Well bring it on." She replied with a grin "We defeated a Dragon Priest, I doubt Mercer can do worse."

Brynjolf looked away, for a moment he frowned "I hope you're right lass…" then he looked back at her and smiled "Now. I think we should go to bed, before I get another taste for you…" he kissed her lips and walked to one of the vacant beds.

Cathryne took the one next to him and closed her eyes, allowing sleep to claim her.

The next morning she received a harsh awakening in the form of ice cold sewer water being splashed in her face. She sat up with a yelp of shock and wiped her eyes clear of the foul liquid.

"What the?"

"Rise and shine my little Guild Whore." It was Mercer.

"Mercer…" she frowned and looked up at him.

"Now. I've thought up a suitable punishment, I hope you're still willing to take it? Otherwise, you're leaving the guild."

"I'll take whatever you've got!" she growled back.

"You see? It's that damned defiance that I'm going to break out of you, Cathryne. You'll learn to respect your betters." Mercer turned on his heel "Let's go."

She got up slowly and donned her guild armour. A sense of dread started to fill her stomach as she followed Mercer through the silent, empty Cistern. She noted, absently, that there was no daylight spilling in through the boarded up ceiling-well. Was it still night time? This realisation did nothing to calm the swirling unease.

"Perceptive as ever. Yeah. I've got you up so that we can have this little talk without the rest of the guild around. You've done well in forging a bit of a name for yourself down here and whilst I usually encourage that… you're proving to be troublesome." Mercer's voice was as frosty as an enchanted blade.

"I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not going to beg you for forgiveness. I will complete any task you set me, but I won't be sorry for what I feel about Brynjolf…" a fierceness started to overtake the sickening feeling – as much as she wanted to remain in the Thieves Guild and be part of this 'family', she did not want to let Mercer bully her.

He smirked at her, which promptly drained the fiery emotions from her eyes "I know. You're not sorry but you will be. I have a job for you."

"A job?"

"Yes. Failure is almost guaranteed and if you fail, you'll be spending the rest of forever in a cell."

"What's the job?"

"I want you to steal Maven Black Briar's most treasured possession. The Statue of Zenithar. I don't know how she managed it, but that statue is enchanted and turn flawed gemstones in to flawless ones… I don't need to explain to you how good that could be for the Guild's wealth!"

"Steal…? From Maven Black Briar?" Cathryne knew this was nothing short of a death sentence. She could see the sneer in Mercer's eyes, he wanted her to fail but if she succeeded then he stood to gain greatly. Either way, he would come out with something he wanted. Her punishment and imprisonment, or a precious artefact. "You… bastard!" she hissed.

"Do you get it now? You don't cross Mercer Frey and get away with it, stupid girl. I always win in the end." He turned and started to walk, but then stopped and turned around "Oh and one more thing. If you mention this to anyone in the Guild, including your lover boy Bryn, then I'll have word sent to Maven about how you intended to steal her Statue of Zenithar and… I have acquired written exchanges between you and Brynjolf which would corroborate my side of the story…" he held up a few letters for her to see. "So. Happy hunting, Cathryne. I'll ask them to spare you the axe man's block as a 'favour' to the guild."

Cathryne watched him disappear, she could hear him snickering to himself. For a few moments she stood in the dingy corridor and looked at the floor. Her thoughts were swimming and she was reeling from the task at hand. She was going to steal a precious artefact from Maven Black Briar. She was going steal from the most influential person in Riften – probably one of the most influential in all of Skyrim and if she failed, she was going to hang for it.

This was different to the head-on fights with Dragons and their Priests. This was a colder, more calculating sort of a fight and one that she was not quite so qualified for. She couldn't FUS RO DAH her way out of it and she couldn't implicate the rest of the guild in this mess, either.

"Alright, Mercer." She took a deep breathe "Game on…"

~ End of Chapter 5~


	6. Chapter 6: Sold Out

****Dear Reader,

Last time Mercer gave the Dragonborn something of an impossible task, however the Dragonborn eventually came around to the idea of giving this task as good a shot as she could muster and went in search of the Black Briar Manor just outside of Riften.

Meanwhile, Brynjolf was awakening to the aftermath of that conversation...

**Stolen Heart**

_By: Anonymous_

* * *

><p>- Chapter 6: Sold out -<p>

There was a certain mood in the Thieves Guild that morning and everyone felt it. The air was filled with something akin to the tension that would spread like wildfire whenever someone was suspected of being a snitch, only this was worse. Brynjolf had spent the best part of the morning glaring daggers at Mercer and in return the Guild Master had never seemed happier. His grin was as wide as the edge of a great sword.

"Oy. Bryn. You gonna tell us what's goin' on?" Delvin was looking at the Guild Second from behind his tankard.

"… I'd say it's best to stay out of this one." Vex sat down next to Delvin "I don't think Bryn wants to chat."

"You're right there, lass." Brynjolf replied, though his tone was notably blunt.

Delvin and Vex exchanged glances, Brynjolf's ratty mood and Mercer's mirth were connected; that much was clear and both had their suspicions that it probably involved Cathryne who had been absent from the guild and missed breakfast that morning.

"I reckon Bryn's had a fancy for her an' she's gone with ol' Mercer." Delvin concluded, when he and Vex were alone in the Flagon.

"Are you listening to yourself, idiot? We don't have all the facts and jumping to that kind of conclusion is what a numbskull who fancies a knife in his throat would do. I mean there could be any number of reasons. Such as a disagreement over a job cut, or the guild's direction. Hell. It could be that Bryn's finally grown a pair and fancies himself as Guild Master."

"Naw. It ain't that." Delvin shook his head enthusiastically "I know old Bryn. He ain't never gonna take that spot. Ha. I think he'd even promote me to the Guild Master ahead of himself."

"The day that happens, I'm leaving." Vex replied, rolling her eyes.

"Hey. You could at least give me a try, I might make a good guild master." He grinned "We could have all sorts of theme days."

"Are you planning to maintain a guild or establish a brothel?"

"A bit a both don't sound bad now, does it?"

Vex's fist met the back of Delvin's head and the stocky man let out a growl of pain as he hit the hard table surface. Vex flicked some of her silvery hair from her face and hissed "Even if you're joking, you're not funny!"

"Hmh. Everyone is testy today." Delvin muttered, sitting up from the table and draining his tankard "That does it. I'm goin' out on a job. Better than takin' in the sewer air down here…" he got up and looked at Vex "I have a feelin' today isn't gonna be pretty so you might wanna take some jobs up too."

"Yeah I might. Though I'd feel a little bad leaving Vekel and Tonilia, if those two buttheads are going to butt heads then I don't really want anyone else getting dragged in to it." Vex would never admit it, but she cared for her 'family' of associates.

Delvin sighed and shook his head "Look. Brynjolf and Mercer are grown men. They'll just have to sort this out between themselves an' everyone else ain't stupid. Everyone'll stay well outta it, their noses don't belong in the middle of Guild Master and Guild Second rubbish, I'll tell you that for nothin'. Now. You'd be much better off getting out there and getting some coin. Coin makes everything better."

Delvin would normally go through the Cistern but today he opted for the Ratways, not only was the ambience more pleasant in those skeever-infested halls, but there was less chance of getting knifed to death.

Vex decided to stay put, Vekel gave her a knowing glance before smiling slightly and sliding a tankard of ale her way. She huffily accepted the offering, but the tiniest smile remained on her lips as she drank her ale.

"This is cozy. Isn't it?" came a voice from the corridor which housed the Cistern.

"M-Mercer?" Vekel uttered out the Guild Master's name and could have been knocked down by a skeever's dropping if someone had thrown it at him. The Guild Master never came to the Ragged Flagon, not that Vekel minded his non-attendance.

"You don't have to look like you've seen a sodding Draugr." Mercer muttered, sitting down on the stool beside Vex. "So tell me, Vex, you didn't fancy going on a job? Why's that? Something bugging you?"

"…" Vex took a methodical sip of ale "Why? Should something be bothering me?"

"Well, I know you and Delvin are quite supportive of Brynjolf and things aren't so good between he and I." Mercer shook his head when Vekel held up a bottle of mead.

"What goes on between the two of you is none of my business. Or anyone else's for that matter." Vex cursed her slight feelings of concern, being trapped in a conversational duel with Mercer was high up on her list of 'things not to do'.

Mercer grinned, he seemed to be enjoying her discomfort immensely "Are you sure it has nothing to do with the Guild? I mean… things could get ugly, right?"

"… Mercer, I don't mean any disrespect but are you trying to get at something?"

"Me? No, no. Not at all. I just wanted a chat. Thanks for indulging me, Vex." Mercer rose from the barstool and walked back down towards the Cistern.

Vekel was about to say something, when Vex shook her head and rose her tankard "I'm going to need something stronger." He smiled at her and got out an unmarked bottle containing something that smelt worse than skooma. Vex smiled at him and took the bottle from him "Thanks, Vekel." She walked off to find a quiet corner.

Mercer returned to his table and found Brynjolf waiting for him, he glanced around and noted that all the guild members had become so industrious that they had cleared off leaving him alone with the Guild's Second.

"This your doing?" he asked, gesturing to the Cistern with a slight nod of his head.

"No. But no one in this place is an idiot, Mercer. They can tell something is afoot." Brynjolf scowled at him "Now. I'll ask you again, where have you sent Cathryne?"

"It's as we discussed last night, Bryn. I thought up a suitable job for Cathryne to complete in order to restore my faith in her. Granted it might be a little bit unfair and it might make Goldenglow look like child's play but, it's a chance." Mercer chuckled to himself "Yeah… it definitely makes Goldenglow look easy."

Brynjolf growled, he slammed his hands down on the Guild table, causing a few bottles of Black Briar Mead to topple off and clatter to the floor. He looked Mercer directly in the eyes "Enough with the games, Mercer. What have you done?"

"You want the truth, Bryn? I'm not convinced you'll handle it well."

"Just answer me, damn you!"

"Alright. Alright. Your little girlfriend is on her way to an infamous estate." Mercer was grinning, again. "Where she's going to steal a priceless treasure, if she succeeds then all is forgiven. Though if she fails it will be grim, to put it mildly…"

Brynjolf was furious, his fists were balled tightly and trembling. There was only a scrap of common sense telling him not to punch Mercer, he was still the Guild Master and irrespective of this disagreement, he still had to respect the rules of the guild. He knew that he would not get anything else out of Mercer regarding the punishment job and Cathryne had not left him any sort of note or clue about what she was up to. He had an intense sinking feeling which he had not experienced since he was a young boy surrounded by guards with his hand in a nobleman's pocket.

Brynjolf gave Mercer a final glare before leaving the Cistern. He stepped out in to the quiet graveyard, the birds were singing and the sun was shinning – it was a normal day in Riften but it was shaping up to be one of the worst days of his life. His head was filled with possible things that Mercer could have asked Cathryne to do as a punishment. They ranged from committing acts of larceny against the Empire, or the Stormcloaks to stealing from the Emperor himself or even pick pocketing a Daedra Prince. All of these were equally possible when it came to Mercer's venomous side.

Brnjolf sat down on a tombstone and looked at the statue of Talos that was tucked away in a corner of Riften. He was not a religious man but if any of the Divines could guide Cathryne and serve Mercer with his just desserts, then he might just be willing to believe in the deities of the world.

"Prayer…" He muttered to himself, and the butterfly that had landed on his hand "… I really must be desperate."

He looked skyward and let out a frustrated growl.

~ End of Chapter 6 ~

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><p>^^ Thanks for all the favourites thus far, it's really inspiring to know that people are keeping an eye on this story so a big thank you to all of you!<p>

Please keep reviewing, I'd love to get more feedback!


	7. Chapter 7: The Impossible Job

Dear Reader,

The last chapter provided us with the on-going tensions within the Thieves Guild, our current chapter provides us with attempts of the Dragonborn to complete the task set by Guild Master Mercer.

* * *

><p><strong>Stolen Heart<strong>

_By: Anonymous_

- Chapter 7: The Impossible Job -

Cathryne took a final swig of her potion of Stamina. It instantly filled her with the renewed vigour she needed to keep her eyes open. So far the 24 hour stakeout had been nothing short of unbearably dull and for a few of those seemingly endless moments she had considered walking away from the job, but, she knew her heart was already caught up in the Thieves Guild. Her heart was caught in more ways than she had anticipated and the thought of abandoning it felt like an impossible act.

Her life, up until she received the mantle of "Dovahkiin", had been a lonely one and she had lived for a long whilst as a wanderer. Her decision to cross back in to Skyrim, was supposed to be a new break and a chance at something new – something better. Instead, it had been an endless spiral of misdeeds and awkward decisions.

She watched as the mercenary, that she had taken to naming 'Cutthroat the First', had finished peeing against the manor for the 13th time. Cutthroat the First, after relieving himself, would resume his patrol – which appeared to be the entire outer perimeter of the mansion. It normally took him 15 minutes to briskly walk from his starting point and back.

She returned to her musings as he left her vision; she had left the Imperial heartland of Cyrodiil after losing her parents to a necromantic cult. Their bodies had made 'good materials' according to the coven leader. His dying corpse had given her some limited closure, though not enough to put her mind at ease. After that harrowing moment in her life, she couldn't stand Cyrodiil and had decided to return to Skyrim in order to return her parent's ashes to their homeland and to forge a better life for herself.

Initially she resolved that Skyrim would be different: she would find a trade other than fighting and she would settle down and look forward to old age. Instead of finding a hamlet to live in, she found an Imperial ambush, the Jarl of Windhelm also known as the Stormcloak leader, and due to a bad turn of fate herself, clapped in irons…

It still seemed impossible that she had been ready for the axe man one moment and then fleeing from Alduin, the devourer of worlds, the next. She absently mused that this would make a very dramatic book, if she had any talent for writing – which she did not.

She looked up as the familiar crunch of leaves drew closer, Cutthroat the First had made it around the premises, again, and this time he was joined by one of his comrades, Cutthroat the Third.

"You're stalling." She thought, and roused herself in to a stealthy crouch. The 24 hour surveillance had paid off, she knew what Cutthroat the First and Third would do on their rounds and this would give her the chance to reach the mansion undetected.

Cathryne made sure to avoid the patch that Cutthroat the First had taken to peeing on before pressing on towards the imposing door of the mansion. In her mind the moments were ticking by, she would not have long to pick the door lock. Luckily, picking treasure chests of all shapes and sizes had provided her with some practical lessons and picking the locks on the Guild's test-chests had also been very useful.

The lock was well fortified and the remnants of 10 picks lay strewn around her before the lucky eleventh provided the sweet click of a lock giving way. The door opened and she snuck inside, in to the gloomy shadows beneath the stairs. The map she had swiped from the Guild Master's table drawer provided her with a basic layout of the three-floor mansion. Though the map gave her no clue as to where the statue would be kept, she assumed it would either be the top floor or the basement.

"Oy! You idiots deaf or somethin'!"

A voice boomed from over head and she stiffly squashed herself against the shadowy corner under the stairs whilst looking around partly with the aching worry that she had already been caught, moments after arriving.

"Geez! What!" a voice came from a corridor to her right as a pair of mercenary's boots walked in to view.

"I said dinner's ready. You want some or you suckin' up to the boss?"

"You'd never say that to her face." The mercenary retorted.

"Shut up. While she's in Riften I say we enjoy some good food and mead."

"Haha well you ain't plannin' on drinkin' Black Briar Mead then, right?"

"You bet your ass I'm not! Found some imported gear, good stuff."

"Alright. Sounds good."

The boots walked out of Cathryne's view and up the stairs, a deep sigh of relief escaped her as the sound of boots and mercenaries voices disappeared. She took the moment as an open opportunity to explore the basement. Keeping her movements small and steady, she crept towards the basement and found it to be locked by another impressive lock, this time luck seemed to be guiding her hand and she opened it with the first pick.

The smell of musty wooden barrels greeted her nose followed by the mixed aroma's of various foods, most prominently; a stinky wardrobe of cheeses.

The plans guided her through the basement towards the most secluded part of the basement, logically the hardest room to get to would be the best place to stash valuables. She opened the door and found a room that was completely empty. The bareness of the room, versus the well stocked larders and wine cellar, seemed out of place. She looked for clues.

After a thorough investigation of every nook and cranny, she found that there was a hidden button under the central floorboard. She pushed it and watched as the back wall of the room slid away to reveal a stair case. She wanted to jump up and down with joy at her discovery, but restrained herself

Cathryne took a deep breath, calming herself, before descending in to the hidden stairwell.

A button on the other side of the faux wall panel closed it back up again and blanketed her in thick, inky darkness. She crouched down and continued to descend in to the depths,

The stairwell branched out in to a long corridor. She looked down it but could see no sign of any other people. Her search continued, she checked each room as she came across doors but found nothing that resembled the Statue of Zenithar. Once more, the Guild Master's table had proven itself invaluable having provided her with a detailed legend of the Status of Zenithar and its creation along with a reference sketch which she hoped was accurate. The story stated that the statue had been created by the Priests of Zenithar in tribute of the Divine. It was then stolen by a master thief who was working with a talented enchanter. The enchanter harnessed the powers of Oblivion to grant it the curious power that Mercer was now interested in.

The last door was locked by three different locks, the very presence of the extra locks filled Cathryne with a sense of hopefulness; such a fortified room would be a good place to store a precious enchanted statue.

The locks took a considerable amount of teasing and coaxing. Each lock seemed to have been created by a masterful artisan craftsman and was filled with intricate quirks. This did not dissuade Cathryne, however, she continued to work the locks with a calmness that surprised even herself.

The final lock snapped and collapsed, she bit her tongue to stop the involuntary squeal that wanted to escape her as the blasted door finally opened. She walked in and she briefly thought of the fact that if this was anyone else's house, then she could have tried shouting the doors down. Something about that thought gave her the mental image of a frowning Greybeard. She chuckled and wondered just what Arngeir would make of her now? She suspected he would simply say that the voice was guiding her, or something to that effect, but it was not the voice. In her opinion, it was her own mind making the same odd choices that she always had, much like her father and his snap decision to leave Skyrim when she was small.

She shook her head and scolded herself; dwelling on past events would not get her out of Maven Black Briar's mansion alive and with the stupid Statue of Zenithar.

The room was filled with glittering treasures. There were numerous pots and baskets each one overflowing with gold and flawless, precious gemstones. There was a display case that was packed tight with rings and necklaces and an entire wardrobe loaded with fine works of art. In the centre of the room, atop a custom-made plinth, was the Statue of Zenithar.

Cathryne neared the key object. Just as the book had depicted, it was an abstract carved lump of ebony. The main body looked distinctly anvil-like, but the anvil was adorned with numerous glyphs and runes, including several triangular shapes and swirls that were inlaid with gold. In the centre was a deep groove which was currently filled with sapphires and rubies, each and every stone was flawless. The chunk of ebony glowed with an eerie golden light and hummed with the various enchanted energies that surrounded it.

She looked around the plinth for any traps and found none. With her concerns of being blown up by a trap sated, she reached out and picked up the solid, heavy object. It was even heavier than it looked and she quickly realised that getting out with the statue would be even harder than reaching it had been.

"All I have to do is escape." She thought to herself, looking down at the ebony chunk in her hands. "That's it. That's all I have to do… Just escape!"

She hurried out of the room, ignoring all of the other shimmering treasures it contained. Her legs moved as quickly and quietly as they could to get her back down the dingy hidden corridor. She scaled the staircase and pushed the button to open the faux wall. It slid away and she inched towards the door, looking through a small crack at the surrounding basement area. There was no sign of any mercenaries, so she took a gamble and quickly made her way out of the hidden room. The further she got from the treasure room, the heavier the ebony statue felt. She began to wonder whether it had been further enchanted to try and discourage thieves from taking it. She bit her lip and resolved to get it back to the guild…

Cathryne quickly scaled the stairs out of the basement and found that the ground floor was now being well patrolled by numerous mercenaries. Her heart sank, sneaking by this many people would be difficult and fighting was likely to get her identified as a member of the Thieves Guild. If she was caught an identified she knew that Mercer would see to it that her ass would be rotting in jail for the rest of her life, she couldn't give him the satisfaction of her untimely demise.

"There's only one way I'm going to get out of this…" she thought and closed her eyes, trying to recall the only shout that would help her to escape.

"FUL MEY GUT!" she shouted, and even as she said it, she could hear it booming halfway across the mansion. Quietly she observed from her hiding place as all of the near by mercenaries stood up and started to run towards the perceived source of the voice. They drew their weapons and charged off to find the 'intruder', leaving her with a clear view of the exit.

She didn't wait to see what would happen, she got up, grabbed the statue and dashed for the nearby front door. She opened it and poked her head out, there were no mercenaries immediately visible, so she hurried away from the mansion and around to the stables. There, she found a sack which she used to conceal the Statue of Zenithar. Hauling it over her shoulder, she ran as fast as her legs would carry her, across the woodlands that surrounded the mansion and back towards Riften.

It was then that she heard the unmistakable roar of a dragon…

- End of chapter 7 -

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><p>^^; Once again I was inspired to write over the weekend and created a few chapters... this is the last one I'm going to upload tonight but expect more tomorrow!<p> 


	8. Chapter 8: Maven's Revenge

Dear Reader,

Just as the Dragonborn was close to completing her punishment job, her good fortune was shattered by the arrival of a dragon...

Now she must fight, not only to return the Statue of Zenithar to Mercer but for her life too...

* * *

><p><strong>Stolen Heart<strong>

_By Anonymous_

~Chapter 8: Maven's Revenge ~

Powerful winds whipped the floor and dust flew upwards, forcing Cathryne to shield her eyes as the dragon swooped in on the small valley. The mansion trembled under the sheer force of each wing beat.

Cathryne threw herself to the ground and barely avoided a swipe from the dragon's razor sharp talons. She looked up as the dragon wheeled around in the sky for a second attack. She gripped the sack containing the statue in one hand and readied an ice spell in the other.

The dragon roared at her baring rows of jagged, blood stained fangs. Its eyes burned with pure elemental fury, keenly locked on its prey. It lashed out with claws and fangs, she threw herself to the ground again and rolled away from the attack.

To her right she could hear several awe struck and terrified voices, the Mercenaries were starting to exit the mansion to see what the commotion was about.

"Crikey! It's a dragon!"

"What's it doing here?"

"I'm not paid enough to tangle with a monster like that!"

"If that thing burns this mansion down, we'll have more to worry about than our pay…"

"Are you telling me to fight it?"

"Yes I am! Now get your bows out! Quicker than that!"

Arrows flew through the air like razor sharp rain, and pelted the dragon deeply in its thick scaly hide. It hissed out furiously and landed, felling a few trees under its impressive claws. It struck the ground with its tail causing a tremor to run through the floor, throwing the mercenaries off their aim. Then, whilst the men were recovering, it turned its head towards the mansion and the mercenaries. It's voice was like the howl of the winds and it spoke out in Dragon Tongue, shouting; "YOL TOOR!" plumes of fire and smoke were expelled from its gaping maw as it roared savagely.

Cathryne began to pick herself up slowly from the floor, the dragon was raining fire down on the mercenaries and at the same time she noticed that the fires were spreading across the dried grass and quickly approaching the mansion.

"…Shit." She muttered as the flames swept across the grass and swiftly consumed the Black Briar mansion. The logs that formed the outer shell were starting to burn and a thick black smog rose up in to the air.

The mercenaries laid in a bloody mess beneath the dragon's claws, the beast craned its sinuous neck to the side and looked at Cathryne with luminous golden eyes.

Cathryne clutched the sack containing the Statue of Zenithar tightly in her hand. The beast reared up and began to move towards her, she took a deep breath and ran forward towards it.

The dragon crouched down, jaws open wide "YOL!" it shouted, firing another great wave of flames.

She lunged to the side, her clothes were singed slightly by the flames but she had avoided the majority of the attack. With a great shout of exertion she swung the sack with both hands and smacked the dragon firmly in the snout.

The beast recoiled, wings beating and tail thrashing, blood splattered in to the air from the thick, heavy blow it had received.

Cathryne quickly ran around the beast to flank it from behind, as she approached it the tail whipped out and struck her squarely in the stomach, she fell back from the blow with a loud cry of pain. A red hot flash of agony swept through her. The pain was centred in her chest – she was sure she had broken a rib. Her hand clutched at her waist, she knew she had to do something to try and ebb the pain and finish the fight. Raising her free hand she tried to recall the few healing spells she knew. The magic numbed the pain enough to enable her stand up and when its tail had calmed she limped towards the dragon and climbed up it. She made another decisive blow with the anvil and struck it down firmly in to the dragon's skull.

The beast reared up, making a feeble groan as it was bludgeoned under the anvil. It collapsed unceremoniously in to the ground before the burning mansion. Cathryne fell off the beast as it began to smoulder and dissipate. She clutched her waist once more and groaned out in agony.

"Not now… I can't fail here…" she thought wildly, looking around for inspiration.

The mansion groaned behind her, the wooden fixtures began to collapse, which caused the whole structure to tremble and cave in. A powerful gust of hot air and ash swirled around her.

As she laid in the grass, trying to move, she heard the sound of footsteps nearing her. She looked up as the sound stopped and her eyes widened as a familiar face looked down.

"M-Maven Black Briar…"

"I wonder. What are you doing near my mansion? More importantly, why is it on fire?" Maven's tone was surprisingly level as she looked at her smouldering mansion.

Cathryne wanted to speak, but one of Maven's bodyguards had swiftly dashed over and placed a foot on her chest to keep her in place. White hot pain flooded her and she was plunged in to darkness as she fainted.

Time passed, but she had no idea how much, she could hear voices but her vision was foggy.

"Lady Maven, she was carrying this."

"I see."

"What should we do with her?"

"We'll take her with us for now…"

Once again consciousness eluded her and she passed out…

The next time she awoke, she found herself sitting in a bed. At first she sighed in relief and assumed that all had gone well. She had escaped the mansion and was safe. Then, the sting of her ribs reminded her of her last moments and that she should either be dead or in a prison bed. The room she was in did not look like the Sovngarde of yore, nor did it look like a prison.

"Where… am I?" she muttered to herself.

"You're in my other mansion." Came the sharp reply of Maven Black Briar as she sat down near the Dragonborn's bedside, her glare was intense.

Cathryne bolted up out of bed and shouted in pain as her ribs penalised her for the sudden movement. "M-Maven!" she uttered.

"Good. You deserve to suffer." Maven folded her arms and glared.

"… You found it, then." Cathryne looked down at the floorboards.

"Do you know what I fail to understand in all of this…" Maven said, more to herself than to Cathryne.

"It's how a two bit guild rookie even knew that the Statue of Zenithar existed and that it would be the only thing worth stealing from that room of wealth where it was kept." The cold gaze of the Black Briar matriarch settled on Cathryne. She reached out and caught the girls face, forcing her to look in to her cold eyes. "How did you know about the statue?"

"… I doubt you'd believe me." It was the truth, she figured that Maven and Mercer were very close.

"Well. Tell me anyway. I have my suspicions." Maven's grip tightened on Cathryne's cheeks.

"Mercer…" Cathryne returned Maven's glare with one of her own "Mercer wanted to punish me so he told me to steal the Statue of Zenithar from your estate."

"It's as I thought." Maven clicked her tongue "Mercer you idiot."

"You believe me?" Cathryne asked, dumb founded.

"Yes. Mercer is the only person in the Thieves Guild that I confided in… I told him that I had acquired the Statue and that as a courtesy I would allow him to pass flawed gems to me for improving, provided I received either a cut of the gems themselves or the profits he acquired from them. It would seem he got too greedy and disregarded our arrangement."

"Oh…" Cathryne was speechless.

Maven smirked ruefully "It seems even a firebrand like you can be silenced. That stupid look on your face is almost as amusing as the terror in your eyes when you first saw me at the mansion."

"…Damn…" Cathryne looked away.

"you know… the other curious thing I saw at the mansion, was that gigantic skeleton." Maven looked down at Cathryne with an appraising look in her eye "All of my men were dead but you were very much alive. Would I be right in assuming that you defeated that over grown salamander?"

"… So what?" Cathryne had a bad feeling. A very bad feeling.

"Well. If so, then you might just be able to earn a pardon from me."

"Earn a pardon? You mean… you won't lock me up to rot?"

"That's right." Maven folded her arms "I believe what you've told me so far, that Mercer was the mastermind but you're still implicated. You should have come to me with this plot. The fact that you failed to do so means that you are just as guilty as he is of trying to deceive me."

"B-But…-"

"However." Maven cut Cathryne off with a sudden silencing gesture of her hand and a raised voice "If you would be willing to deal with a dragon-related problem I've been having, I would be willing to over look your involvement. What do you say?"

"Tell me what the problem is?" Cathryne replied, as a small flicker of relive ran through her.

"My attempts to deal with the Heartwood Mill have all ended in chaos. Every caravan I've sent to collect timber has been razed to the ground and my horses devoured. It's becoming costly." Maven poked Cathryne in the abdomen "You kill that dragon and I'll forget that you were ever involved with Mercer's scheme. I think it's fair, either you kill the dragon or it will kill you."

Cathryne hissed in pain as her tender abdomen was prodded "A-Alright… I'll kill it!"

"Very good." Maven stood up "You may use this time to recover for now. After all I do want that dragon dead. Mercer has no idea that you're alive. I told him I found a charred corpse and that the burnt thief appeared to have saved my precious statue."

"Wait." Cathryne stared up at her "The Guild think I'm…"

"Dead. Yes."

She threw the sheets off like something possessed and lunged out of bed, her side flared up furiously and she clutched it tightly but it did nothing to stop her moving towards the door. "No!" she uttered, pulling the door open "They can't think that!"

"Calm down you wretched child! What is this overreaction!"

"If Mercer thinks I'm dead…. Then…. Brynjolf will…"

"Oh." Maven rolled her eyes "You? And that fool Brynjolf?"

Cathryne glared at Maven "He's no fool. But I have no doubts Mercer will be making a point of telling everyone… and telling him… that I'm dead… I can't…—"

"I know what you mean you stupid girl." Maven stood up with an unceremonious sigh "Fine. I shall pay my respects to your Guild and offer my condolences to Brynjolf that his thick headed woman still seems to be alive…"

Cathryne grinned widely and murmured "You're actually quite nice, when you want to be..."

Maven shuddered "Say that again and I'll have you both thrown in prison." Then she left, with a slam of the door.

Cathryne staggered back to the bed and collapsed in to it, she looked up at the ceiling and whispered "Brynjolf… don't do anything rash."

~ End of Chapter 8 ~

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><p>^^ I must sound like a broken record by now but honestly; thank you so much for all the reviews, favourites and subscriptions for story alerts. It really is spurring me on to do my very best!<p>

See you in Chapter 9! :D


	9. Chapter 9: Debt

Dear Reader,

What could be worse in this life than owing a debt of service to Maven Black Briar? Well, I suppose being on her bad and wrathful side may be slightly more disagreeable... On the other hand, being a potential snack to Alduin, the devourer, may just about trump being an enemy of Maven, though only just.

* * *

><p><strong>Stolen Heart<strong>

_By: Anonymous_

- Chapter 9: Debt -

"It's with a heavy heart that I relay this information on to the rest of the guild..." Mercer said, solemnly, before a congregation of the members of the Thieves Guild. He had called them all to the centre of the Cistern for an important announcement.

"Cathryne, of the guild, has died." He glanced at Brynjolf, but continued to talk "I am to understand that she was burned alive when she allowed greed to get the better of her during an attempted burglary at the Black Briar Mansion, just outside of Riften."

There was a ripple of murmurs and whispers amongst the guild members. Mercers words were repeated over and over; Cathryne dead? Stealing from the Black Briars? The only person who remained silent was Brynjolf. He stood rigidly still, his eyes were fixed on Mercer as he searched for some trace of a lie but all he saw was a wicked glint of success in Mercer's evil eyes. Several thoughts flashed through his head: a knife in Mercer's throat, or strangling him to death right here and now.

"This is obviously shocking news and I, as Guild Master, cannot help but feel like I have failed our guild by allowing such an act to go unchecked… We would all do well to remember that the Thieves Guild should never turn on its allies, and this is a clear reminder of why."

Brynjolf took a step forward forward, his temper flared and his hands were itching to act and get revenge for his lost lover. However, the vengeance he desired was interrupted by the untimely arrival of Maven Black Briar.

Everyone tensed up, and a few of the guild members backed away in to the corners of the Cistern to watch silently. Maven paid them all no mind and approached Mercer.

"Mercer." She said, in the same level voice that she used during every business transaction she had ever conducted.

"Maven… again, please accept my apologies. It seems we invested Guild resources in to a truly bad apple."

"Yes. You did." Maven eyed him, then she turned to glance at Brynjolf "I heard that she was your protégé, Brynjolf."

"Aye…" His voice cracked slightly as he replied "… Aye that she was… my protégé."

"In that case… I hold you fully responsible for her actions." Maven looked to Mercer "Brynjolf will answer to me for picking such a thoroughly useless creature. I trust that you have no qualms with this?"

"None at all. I agree that Brynjolf should accept blame for the poor choices he has made."

Two stocky mercenaries entered the Cistern from the same entrance that Maven had entered and grabbed Brynjolf by his arms. At first he moved to resist, then he stopped and replied "Alright. I'll go… but mark my words, Mercer… this isn't over." He glared at the Guild Master as the men led him away.

"Oh I think it is, Bryn." Mercer smirked as Maven and her mercenaries left.

"This isn't Riften prison, Maven." He was looking up at her mansion in Riften.

"Well aren't you observant, Brynjolf." Maven curtly replied and opened the door "Come in. We have much to discuss."

"… I'm not sorry. I mean for picking her. For recruiting her. For-"

"Loving her?" Maven asked, her eyes filled with a smug, all-knowing glint.

"How could you known about…?" Brynjolf choked.

Maven made a deep, exaggerated sigh and shook her head "You two have that same gormless look on your face when you find yourselves dumb founded. I do so hope that it's not an inheritable trait for the sake of any children that you might blight this world with… otherwise they're doomed." Maven walked up the stairs "Follow me, Brynjolf."

Brynjolf did more than follow, he swiftly ran up the stairs straight passed Maven and shouted "Cathryne?"

A familiar voice called back "Brynjolf!"

He ran across the landing as fast he could and to the source of the voice. He flung the door open and could barely contain his delight at the sight of her"Y-You're alive! By the Divines you're actually alive!"

She smiled up at him and nodded "Yes… I'm okay thanks to Maven."

In the corner Maven rolled her eyes.

Brynjolf laughed and gathered Cathryne in to his arms, he cuddled her close to his chest "I thought you were gone lass… I truly couldn't stand the thought… I had every intention of killing Mercer, but then Maven arrived. Your timing really is impeccable, Maven." He glanced over at the sneering woman.

"You two are as irksome when you praise people as you are when you're loved up together. I'm going down stairs before you do anything else to annoy me." She walked out and slammed the door behind her.

Brynjolf laughed and Cathryne smiled at him "Good." She replied "You didn't get a chance to do anything rash. I was worried when Maven told me that Mercer thought I was dead, that you in turn would do something."

"I nearly did." He rested his chin on her head and squeezed her tight. She yelped out as his hands squashed her side. He looked down "What? Did you hurt yourself?"

"Well… The Black Briar mansion caught fire because of a dragon… I fought the dragon but I broke a rib or two. I think it was a fair trade off for surviving."

Brynjolf's eyes widened "So… that stuff Mercer said about you doing a hit on Black Briar Mansion… that was the truth?"

"I think I need to explain…"

Cathryne explained everything to Brynjolf; from the rude awakening two days ago, to the infiltration of the Black Briar Mansion and on to the current situation with two broken ribs and a debt to pay back to Maven in order to clear her name.

"So that's it… I kill the dragon that is attacking her lumber caravans and she says she'll forget my involvement with Mercer's scheme."

"That bastard." Brynjolf growled deeply "He was pretty much trying to send you to your death… Still. I'm quite amazed that you were able to infiltrate the mansion and even get that statue half way to Riften. Were it not for the dragon, you probably would have made it…" he smirked to himself "You still have it Bryn, you know how to pick 'em…"

"Hey. No need to be smug." Cathryne slapped his arm "It might sound strange but I feel like that dragon has helped me to avoid giving Mercer what he wants either way. I'm not dead. Maven still has her statue and I have a chance to settle my debts too."

"Aye. That's no lie lass, as far as things go this is probably a fairly profitable outcome... Well, your ribs aside." Brynjolf sat on the bed beside her and stroked her cheek "Now, the only thing left to do is slay that wee beastie by the lake and then give Mercer what he's owed. And he's owed quite a lot…"

She closed her eyes, his touch was calming and welcomed after the past few days of madness. However, something niggled at the back of her mind "Bryn… I don't want you charging off to fight any dragons on my behalf. After a few days rest I'll be more than capable of completing the task."

He frowned at her "Am I that predictable?"

"Unfortunately? Yes."

"Damn… Well what, then?" He looked at her "I want to help somehow."

"The best thing you could do is go back to the guild."

"What?" He stared at her in disbelief "You want me to go back there?"

"Yes. Mercer should be lulled in to complete complacency. You can tell him you received several lashes from one of Maven's hired goons and that you've been told to pay back a debt by completing jobs. That way we will still have a foot in the guild. I know that Maven is furious, not just at me for failing to inform her of the plot but at Mercer for ever concocting it."

"Alright lass, I see where you're coming from." Brynjolf offered her a weary smile "But for tonight, while I'm being whipped by the hired muscle, I think I better stay here. To rest, of course."

She laughed "I don't know… maybe we need to make it look authentic? Where's some leather straps when you need them?"

He quirked an eyebrow "Wait a minute… is that a kinky streak I detect?"

"Hey! I didn't mean that I would whip you!"

"Pity. I might enjoy it from you, lass…"

"Hey now… This is Maven Black Briar's place!"

He smirked a wicked smirk at her "I know. That makes it all the more fun, don't you think?" before she could reply, he leaned forward and claimed her lips in a deep and long-awaited kiss…

~ End of Chapter 9 ~

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><p>^^ And that's the backlog of uploads cleared. There may be a bit of a delay in getting Chapter 10 uploaded as I'm in the process of writing it... Still, I'll keep working away at it and it should be here soon...ish!<p> 


	10. Chapter 10: Guild Wars

****Dear Reader,

The Dragonborn agreed to use her unique talents to Maven Black Briars advantage as a means of absolving herself of any guilty / implication with Mercer Frey's plan to steal the Statue of Zenithar from the Black Briar estate... So, with a fiery determination to help her guild mates (and her lover), she heads towards the Heartwood Mill to slay a dragon...

* * *

><p><strong>Stolen Heart<strong>

_By: Anonymous_

- Chapter 10: Guild Wars -

Cathryne prepared to leave Riften a week after being found by Maven. Her wounds had healed enough that she felt able to settle her debt and slay the dragon as requested. It was early morning and a soft silver mist swept through the streets like a ghost, the air was thick and damp and filled with the scent of rain.

She neared the main gates of Riften and noticed a hooded figure leaning casually against the door. The outfit was clearly from the Thieves Guild and for a moment she wondered if Mercer had found her out.

Her fears ebbed as Brynjolf pulled the hood off and smirked "What? Did you mistake me for Mercer? I'm hurt, lass."

"Look. I think it might be understandable that I'm a bit paranoid…" Cathryne retorted, before moving in to his open arms "More to the point. Why are you here?"

He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her neck with his nose "Well. A certain stiff nosed bitch may have tipped me off that you were about to go dragon-hunting." His eyes looked in to hers, searching for any glint of hesitation "Are you sure about this lass?"

"I'm absolutely sure." She nodded , returning his look with a determined gaze "Mercer needs to pay and more importantly the guild needs Maven on side. If I can kill this dragon and see to it that Mercer is put in his place, then I think the guild just might make it to those 'glory days' everyone's been harping on about, well… until the next travesty at least."

"You make a fair point lass but… Please don't do anything stupid. I mean it, too. You might be the Dragonborn and all but your bones can still break and you can still die." He poked her ribs, leaving his point aching in her side.

"Alright. I won't do anything too heroic." She replied, and mustered up the best smile she could as a means of reassuring him "So stop fretting. The guild is important to me. It's the first time I've felt like I had a home, even a dysfunctional one, for quite a while."

"I'm glad you feel at home with us… I think more so than ever, I feel attached to the guild and… to you."

"It seems your charm knows no bounds, Bryn." She looked up at the brooding skies "I better go. The sooner I leave the sooner I can return, to the guild… and to you."

He nodded "Alright. I'll be in the Bee and Barb. Come and see me when you're done so we can celebrate your victory over some mead."

"Okay." She tiptoed and kissed his cheek "See you soon. Make sure my drink is cold and my seat is warm, alright?"

"Aye. I'll make it so, lass." He kissed her forehead and released her from his embrace. He stood still and watched quietly as she left through the gates. When she was out of sight, he sighed and shook his head before turning to walk away. He passed through the streets of Riften and headed to the Bee and Barb. "Keerava, give me something to eat and drink. I'm planning to stick around for a while."

Keerava glared fiercely at him, glaring daggers if such a thing were possible "Don't you dare nurse a single tankard of mead like you usually do! I'm running a business not a charity."

Brynjolf dropped a coin purse on the table "Here. Consider this my tab and, for once, it's not even yours…"

Keerava picked up the pouch and grunted "Well… Fine. What do you want then?"

"Give me a beef stew and some mead. Oh and Keerava, none of that watered down swill you're palming off. Give me the good stuff you keep hidden under the bar."

Keerava's eyebrows rose for a moment then she scowled, bearing rows of tiny sharp teeth "I shouldn't be surprised that you know about that stash… fine. But it costs extra!"

"Fair enough, lass."

"I already told you to stop calling me that! I'm not some sort of cow or horse!" she snapped at him before stomping off.

Brynjolf smirked to himself as the enraged Argonian slammed a bowl of stew and a bottle of mead on his table. There was nothing quite so satisfying as pissing off a mark, which in turn yielded its own rewards. He tossed the coin purse that he had acquired from her apron up and down in his hand, feeling its weight.

A hand lashed out and caught the purse. Delvin sat down opposite him and dropped it on the table "You seem in… good spirits."

Brynjolf nodded "Aye. I'm waiting for someone."

"Who?" Delvin cocked an eyebrow up "Wait… you haven't found another woman already? You're going to end up being fleeter than Vipir!"

"It's a new recruit, Delvin. Someone that I reckon could be an asset to the guild."

"Not this again… Bryn… let it go. Let her go." Delvin frowned at his friend, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Brynjolf looked away and bit his tongue, he had to try and focus all of his attention on not laughing in Delvin's face. As he looked away, he looked out at Riften, by now Cathryne would be at Heartwood Mill. A sickening feeling filled his stomach, though he tried to quash it.

Catheryne crouched low to the ground, hiding amongst the grass, her Thieves Guild attire provided decent camouflage amongst the greens and woody brown tones. Before her a large dragon dozed atop the Heartwood Mill's watermill, on her way to the site she had met the owner and her two children. They were fleeing from their home, Cathryne promised them that they would be returning home by the end of the day – a big promise but one she intended to keep.

The dragon was large, more so than its green cousins, and adorned with scales the colour of bronze. It's tail lazily flicked from side to side and its sizable stomach rose and fell with rhythmic, growling snores. The wooden supports of the watermill groaned under the extra weight of the dragon.

Cathryne stealthily stalked around the house near the watermill and in to the shallow waters of Riften lake. She swam to the watermill and gripped one of the rotating rudders, it carried her up out of the water and in to the air. She neared the Dragon.

Readying an ebony dagger, she tensed, awaiting the moment that she could score a deep blow on the beast.

The watermill reached its pinnacle and she was finally level with the dragon's tail and hind quarters. She rose the dagger and swiftly plunged it down, embedding it to the hilt in the dragon's right hip, blood splattered and oozed as the blade dug deeply.

The dragon violently jolted awake and roared furiously, the watermill trembled under the sheer might of its voice. Cathryne twirled and swiftly dove in to the waters of the lake to avoid a crushing blow from the beast's claws or tail. She heard the great beats of its wings and felt the rush of air as it took flight. She swam through the lake towards the shore, she emerged from the waters and the ground trembled before her. She looked up and saw the dragon towering over her, blood pouring from its right thigh.

"Dovakiin!" It howled, furiously, flames hissing from its mouth as it spoke.

She drew her bow and fired a bolt in to one of its eyes, once more the dragon reared up in pain and roared furiously, this time its neck snapped to the side and it spat a great plume of fire at her.

Despite her best efforts, the flames singed her clothing causing intense pain to flood through her. She fired more arrows, backing towards the lake in order to extinguish the flames.

The dragon took flight once more, she ducked down in to the waters as its claws lashed out to grab at her. The large talons wrapped around her waist as she dived in to the waters. After thrashing and struggling violently, she managed to slip through its grip. As she emerged a second time from the lake she felt pain around her waist, looking down she saw deep gash marks from where the claws had grazed her.

The dragon landed once more and readied itself for another blast of flame. Cathryne charged forward and drove a second dagger in to the dragon's mouth, stabbing its tongue down in to its lower jaw. A strange, distorted whine emitted from the beasts mouth as it tried to dislodge the firmly placed dagger.

It stomped towards her, tail lashing out along with claws, but she managed to roll and dodge each strike. Finally with a loud roar of effort, she drew her bowstring back and lodged three arrows deeply into the dragon's chest piercing it fatally in the heart. It sank to the floor with a heavy thud, its body already dissipating in to ashes as it fell.

A skeleton remained as proof of her victory, its soul merged with her own.

She fell back in to the dirt, holding her waist, blood slicked her hand but it was a minor wound compared to the last. She drummed up her tried and tested healing spell, reducing the pain and causing some of the bleeding to ebb. Once the pain had faded enough, she stood up and turned towards Riften and began to make the slow journey back there.

"Mercer…" she thought as she walked "It's time we settled our scores!"

~ End of Chapter 10 ~

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><p>^^; Sorry for the long gap  inactivity, I've been ill over the past week and it's been really hard to write coherently (with that said, if anything does seem weird in the above chapter then I'm sorry! I'm still kind of sick-induced!)

Thank you again for all the lovely comments and all the favourites / story alert subscriptions - I really really appreciate all this interest! :D


	11. Chapter 11: Burnout

Dear reader,

The dragon is slain and debts with Maven are repaid. Now it is time to settle things with Mercer and that will be no easy task...

Onwards, then, to chapter 11.

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><p><strong>Stolen Heart<strong>

_By: Anonymous_

- Chapter 11: Burnout -

"Bryn. It's getting' late and I reckon you've been stood up. Let's go back to the Flagon and do somethin' darin' like have a glass of wine." Delvin grabbed Brynjolfs arm and tried to coerce him in to standing up.

"… Not yet." Brynjolf had said the same two word phrase during the past half an hour of coercion. In truth, he was starting to get a little nervous. What if she had died? What if she was laying with more broken bones? Should he have gone after her?

Every time the tavern doors opened, he perked up like some sort of eager skeever, only to sink back down when it wasn't her. He toyed with the empty bottle of imported mead, the coin purse he provided earlier had been emptied after about an hour of him and Delvin drinking and the purse he swiped from Keerava lasted only another 15 minutes, they had been nursing the same drinks for the best part of two hours and the Argonian was livid.

She continually dropped not-so-subtle hints such as how much she hated useless sacks of human flesh that failed to pay their way and how she'd heard rumours that the Thieves Guild were nothing but a useless pile of rabble. For the most part, she was right. However, Brynjolf had no doubts that in time the guild would restore itself and become strong and his trusted instincts told him that it would be Cathryne that would help him along with Vex and Delvin to usher in that age. Of course, Mercer Frey's corpse would also be a necessary part of any such vision – a very necessary factor indeed.

He reached for his ebony dagger and looked at the edge, he noticed from the corner of his eye that Keerava had skulked back behind her bar and her complaints had quietened – he would need to remember this trick for next time.

The silvery edge gleamed with a green-hued light, soon that finely polished silver would be stained red with Mercer's blood…

The doors of the Bee and Barb swung open violently and a body staggered in. Everyone looked up, the sounds of voices and lute playing fell silent. Brynjolf's head snapped up to see who was there, and in an even swifter motion he was up and at Cathryne's side.

"You stupid woman!" he barked as he picked her up "What did you do? Ask for a brawl with the dragon?"

She smirked up at him "Well… it doesn't have any arms, just wings you know… I thought it was an easy win."

Brynjolf kissed her forehead "No amount of joking is going to get you out of this one, you brat. You're in trouble now."

Delvin was white as a sheet, if it were possible the man was already frightfully pale, he stared at the two as they stood there "B-Bryn! Is that….?"

"Aye, Delvin. It's our lass. She's alive and well."

"SHE'S A GHOST!" Delvin shouted "Get away from her Bryn, she's probably some sort of daedra lie!"

"Oh put a sock in it. You and your curses and witchcraft… She's alive. Mercer got bad information, that's all." Brynjolf walked back to the table, he glanced around the room and quirked his eyebrow "This isn't a show, folks. On with your lives now."

The tavern goers looked away and the general hum of chatter and music returned.

Cathryne reached for her coin purse and held it up "Mead. Please."

Brynjolf took the pouch and laughed "So let me get this straight: You fight a dragon and all you can think about is alcohol?"

"… When you put it like that it sounds bad. Still, this is a tavern." She smiled tiredly "I'll be fine, I promise. It's just a bit of dragon fire and some scratches."

Once again Delvin's eyebrows raised "Um… Dragons?"

"Oh right." Brynjolf smiled "Sorry, Delvin, I meant to tell you. The lass is Dragonborn. She can kill those beasties, permanently."

Delvin choked on the last dregs of his mead "Dragh-!"

Brynjolf patted his back sympathetically "There there, lad. You've had a lot to take in for one day."

"Fuck off, Bryn. Don't treat me like one of your sodding protagies or whatever you call 'em" Delvin muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand "So… you kill dragons, permanent?"

"Yeah. Take their souls and all that mystic stuff." Cathryne looked at Brynjolf "Mead?"

"Oh right…" He settled her down in a spare chair and went to the bar to extort more of the 'good stuff' from Keerava.

Delvin looked at her "You look like shit, Cat."

"Thanks. You're no oil painting, Delvin…"

"Haha! Guess not." He grinned "Welcome home. I'm glad you aren't dead like Mercer says. What a load of bullshit."

"Well what matters now is that I've settled things with Maven, she should be on the guild's side and more importantly… now it's Mercer's turn." She looked at the ceiling of the tavern, before closing her eyes.

"Oy." A bottle of mead tapped her cheek "No closing your eyes, lass. I might get worried that you're passing out." Brynjolf sat beside her "Now. That stomach wound needs attention, so drink up then we're off to patch you up."

She opened one eye and looked at him "I think we need to have a plan first, if Mercer catches wind…"

"He won't. Trust me. He thinks that it's over and he's won. Smug little bastard has been grinning to himself since he gave the guild the news. There's no way he'd suspect a thing until it's too late." Brynjolf looked at Delvin "You'll help out, won't you Delvin?"

"Of course." Delvin replied "You tell me what needs doin' and I'll get it done. You tell me who needs settin' up and I'll get them set." He made a knife-dragging gesture across his neck.

Cathryne drank from the bottle of ale, it was strong stuff and helped numbed the edges of the pain in her chest and the ache of her burns. She looked at Brynjolf and Delvin, they both had a determined, angry look in their eyes. A feeling of unity and strength was brewing between them as they sat at that table discussing what would come next.

She felt like as a group, as a dysfunctional and occasionally stupid family, they would be able to pull this off and bring Mercer to account. However, before Brynjolf would allow them to exact any revenge plots he demanded that Cathryne go to the local temple and receive healing. Together with Delvin he ushered her towards a priest.

"It really could wait until Mercer's dying…" Cathryne whined as the doors slammed ominously behind them.

"No lass. It can't. If that gets infected and you die… well it doesn't bear thinking about, does it?" Brynjolf's voice was firm, the no-nonsense tone he would use on sparing occasions.

"… Worrywart" Cathryne grumbled as the priest of Mara came over to inspect her condition.

It took an hour of healing and a few stitches, but in the end she was left with a minor scar and some relatively mild singes – and she felt better for it. Just as Brynjolf and Delvin were leaving, the priest cleared his throat loudly.

"Ahem?" he looked at the two, then at the collection box.

"Oh." Brynjolf replied, patting his many pockets "I'm sorry… your… holiness? I seem to be a wee bit short on cash."

"Uh yeah. Me too." Delvin replied, mimicking Brynjolf''s pocket-patting motions.

The priest sighed deeply and shook his head. Cathryne giggled "I'm sorry. These two spent all their coin on drinks to calm their nerves whilst waiting for me. Here. Take this. It's not gold but you might get some for it."

She handed the priest a flawless emerald which she had found following her most recent dragon fight, it seemed a small price to pay for her comfort. The priest was stunned, and Cathryne took his silence as a chance to shoo the thieves out of the temple.

"Why'd you give him that?" Delvin muttered "Coulda made a fortune off it."

"Oh enough." Cathryne shook her head "He did help me out. I owed him."

"Not that much!"

Brynjolf patted Delvin on the shoulder "There will be more priceless gemstones in our future, once we get rid of Mercer."

"Right." Cathyne nodded "We need to go and end this. Now."

"Now? As in right now?" Delvin frowned "Don't you need a rest or something?"

"I won't be able to sleep while I know there's something I can do to hurt Mercer and I'm not doing it."

"That makes two of us." Brynjolf said "Alright. Let's go to Mercer then. I think we should go via the Flagon, the graveyard entrance doesn't feel right on this occasion."

"Fine. We'll trust your instincts." Cathryne replied and waked with the two thieves towards the Ratways. They navigated the dingy corridors quietly. None of them spoke so as to avoid alerting the inhabitants of the Ratways of their presence. The last thing they needed was a knife fight with vagabonds before a real fight with Mercer. Delvin reached out and opened the door of their private tavern, The Flagon was empty as they walked inside. Only the sound of Vekel's broom filled the air.

"I guess Vex is on a job." Delvin muttered. "A shame, I think she'd like to be involved in castrating old Mercer…"

They passed through the Flagon, Vekel nodded to them and continued his sweeping – he seemed to understand what the serious look in Brynjolf and Delvin's eyes meant. He also gave Cathryne a curt nod, after a few long hard stares and a rub of his eyes.

They stood before the door to the Cistern, looking at one another then back at the hefty wooden entrance. They had discussed this part in the tavern and it had been agreed that Delvin and Brynjolf would enter first with Cathryne behind them, in order to fool Mercer for as long as they possibly could. Once inside they would be in a good position to block off the entrances and finish him once and for all…

Delvin opened the door and walked in, followed shortly by Brynjolf. Cathryne crouched down and followed them stealthily, her hands were itching for a weapon, every nerve in her body was on edge as they neared the central opening of the Cistern. With every step she took, her head filled with possibilities – ways to kill Mercer, what might happen and how she might react.

Her thoughts did not prepare her for what actually happened as Brynjolf and Delvin both slumped to the floor, unconscious. She looked up and saw Mercer standing with a bow in hand.

"Well well. If it isn't Cathyne. I had a horrible suspicion that you might be alive…" He looked down at her and sneered, then he glanced at Brynjolf and Delvin "Oh! And don't worry, I haven't killed your lover boy just yet… I wanted him to be alive, to hear our little talk and to overhear your subsequent death." He offered her a toothy grin that made her skin crawl.

"… Mercer." Cathryne hissed his name as she stood straight and tall, returning his sneering look with a seething gaze.

"You see. That's what I dislike most about you. Those eyes of yours that look of defiance that they hold." For a moment he looked rueful "I've seen those eyes before and that time I cut them down for defying me, this time will be no different!"

For a brief moment Cathryne contemplated asking him what he meant, but she decided against it and asked the more burning question in her mind "How did you know?"

"What? That the thorn in my side wasn't quite dead? Ha! It's easy if you know where to look. For instance… your precious Brynjolf. He couldn't quite hide the relief in his eyes. It's kind of obvious when someone no longer looks like they've been crushed by despair. Also, that frigid bitch Maven, she was harder to glean from but when someone who is normally cold gives you an icy stare you get the message that she knows something. I suspected from the moment she looked at me after the manor incident that she knew more than she was letting on and the only person that could have told her was you."

"I see." Cathryne sighed "So you've had suspicions all along."

"That's right. With that in mind I've set up something special. Took a few sleepless nights and a bit of planning but I think it's going to end this guild rather spectacularly."

"What?" Cathryne's eyes narrowed "What have you done, Mercer?"

"You know. I always hated this place." He started to stroll around the central circular platform of the Cistern as he spoke "Dank. Stinky. A total shit hole. A real organisation would have picked somewhere a less embarrassing, but the Skyrim Thieves Guild? No. They prefer honour and Skeever piss to luxury and wealth."

She readied her bow and slid her hand down to reach for an arrow. His voice echoed out, making her hesitate.

"Don't even think about it, Cathyrne. You asked me what I've done and I'll do better than tell you – I'll show you!"

It all happened faster than Cathryne could register, Mercer pulled a scroll of fireball from his pocket and cast the spell, he aimed the attack at the floor where puddles of sewer water gathered. As the flames formed and burned on the surface of the water Cathryne noticed that there was a distinct shimmering oily nature to the surface. Her eyes widened as she realised what he had done – but it was too late. The water caught fire, the flames spreading quickly around the cistern consuming everything in bright golden-red.

Mercer laughed "I'll be rid of you and this useless guild, Cathryne! You're going to die as a family, cremated and forgotten!" he turned and fled through the graveyard exit, the flames raged up as he escaped, blocking his exit route.

"MERCER!" Cathryne shouted, before choking on the smoke. She looked around the room and tried desperate to assess the situation. She noted that each of the guild beds was full, with members that had been rendered paralysed by Mercer's deadly arrow bolts.

To her side she heard Brynjolf choking. Se moved to his side and crouched down, placing a hand on his back "Bryn…"

"Damn it all to the daedra!" he hissed, struggling to fight the paralysis "He had us. He played us all for fools!"

"It isn't over yet!" Cathyne shouted over the roaring flames "We can't give up!" she looked around herself, the flames were consuming the tattered remnants of the Thieves Guild's banners as well as the pieces of decrepit furniture that Delvin had acquired for them to keep loot in. They were losing their entire legacy to Mercer's cruelty…

"I'll do something!" She whispered "None of us are dying here…"

~ End Chapter 11 ~

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><p>^^ As always, I'm a total broken record, thanks for the reviews and subscriptions to this story! It really is energising to know people are following  enjoying this!


	12. Chapter 12: Ashes to Ashes

Dear reader,

Despite their best efforts, the Dragonborn and the Master Thief were unable to surprise the Guild Master, Mercer. Instead, he turned the tables on them and left his former Guild Comrades to die in a fire attack that he had prepared for them.

Now the only thing on the Dragonborn's mind is survival and saving her paralysed allies from their demise...

* * *

><p><strong>Stolen Heart<strong>

_By: Anonymous_

- Chapter 12: Ashes to Ashes -

"This is bad! I need to stop these flames!" Cathryne's mind raced as she looked around the burning guild for inspiration. She stood up and moved away from Brynjolf's paralysed form, the flames were starting to rage higher, climbing up towards the boarded up well overhead. Smoke billowed around her, grasping her throat in a smoggy choke hold.

Despite the urgency of the situation that the guild was facing, her mind went blank. She was no mage, she couldn't magic her way out of this disaster and she didn't have enough time for figuring out an antidote to Mercer's paralysis poison.

The flames swirled and smoke filled the air, she could feel her skin aching from the intense heat that filled the guild hall. "This heat is almost as bad as dragon fire!" she thought absently. The thought triggered a brief moment of inspiration inside her: the only thing she could try was shouting her way out of this. With shouts in mind, she began trying to recall each of the words of power that she knew.

"Foh…" she murmured softly, recalling the word for 'frost'. In her mind she could picture the icy thu'um halting the rapid progression of the flames, enough to buy her and the rest of the guild members some time.

"FOH KRAH DIIN!" she shouted with all of her might, sinking to her knees in a choking fit afterwards as smoke filled her lungs. With the words spoken, a great roaring blizzard of ice was expelled from her and swept around the room in a furious flurry.

The ice rose up high, freezing the stone walls and the oil-slicked sewer water. The room was encased in a glittering, frosty glaze and for once in her Nord life she was delighted to see ice around her. The flames trembled under the intense, cold air. Smaller flames were instantly quashed by the force of the thu'um and more powerful ones were choked under the ice and the watery residue as it thawed.

She looked around, there were a few, persistent fires but most had been quelled. She grabbed some frost ridden sheets and staggered towards the smouldering blazes, covering them and then promptly stomping them out.

As she worked to stop the fires, the members of the guild were gradually overcoming their paralysis. Some of them were bewildered by the smell of burning and the frost that covered the walls, others got up and ran over to assist Cathryne in putting out remnant fires.

Finally, the flames were doused and everyone had recovered from the paralysis, including Brynjolf and Delvin.

They gathered in the centre of the war torn Cistern and listened to Brynjolf as he brought them all up to speed on the events that had transpired. Cathryne chipped in with some further details regarding the Black Briar Mannor job and what Mercer had told her before he left them all to die in flames.

The collective reaction was a mix of confusion, betrayal and anger. Each and every person wanted to settle the score with Mercer, and painfully too. Delvin looked around at the charred remains of the guild hall and shook his head.

"Damn Mercer. This is gonna take a miracle to restore."

"Not a miracle, just a lot of hard graft and we can do it." Brynjolf replied, firmly "I have every confidence that the guild will thrive again but let's get our priorities straight. I don't know where Mercer's heading but we need to know and fast."

"Agreed, Bryn." Delvin nodded "I think we should try lookin' in that posh little mansion he got given. It's our best bet."

"Aye." Brynjolf looked around at his comrades, the family that he had grown up with. Much to his chagrin, he was something of a father figure to most of these whelps and he could see them all hanging to his every word. He despised the leader role but for now he would undertake it so that the guild could settle things with Mercer.

"Listen up." He said, and everyone looked at him eagerly, "I think we're best to split up on this one. Delvin, Vex, get out on the streets and see if anyone has seen Mercer and what direction he was heading in. Bribe If you have to, I'll pay you back from the coffers later."

Delvin and Vex nodded and quickly left to gather information whilst it was fresh.

"You three, Sapphire, Rune, Vipir, do what you can to get us some furniture. It's depressing to see the Cistern looking this downtrodden."

"Yes sir!" Rune looked determined, and delighted that he had been chosen to help.

Sapphire and Vipir exchanged glances at Rune and each other before nodding to Brynjolf. They walked away from the gathering with Rune following eagerly.

"Thrynn, Niruin, Cynric… I need people to stay here in case Mercer is sadistic enough to return, I know each of you can handle yourselves in a fight and are pretty good at running, too. So you should be able to slip out and get word to one of us if that does happen. Also, you can get on with cleaning up down here."

"Clean up, huh? … Geez. Alright. I'll go ask Vekel for some brooms or somethin'." Thrynn looked less than impressed with the task, but he grudgingly accepted the role and headed towards the Flagon.

"We'll keep watch here." Cynric said as he walked after Thrynn and Niruin nodded to Brynjolf before following behind them.

Brynjolf turned to Cathryne "And as for you, lass. You're coming with me."

"Oh? What's the plan, Guild Master?" she grinned at him.

He huffed at her "Look. Just because you're gorgeous, doesn't mean you can tease me like that. I'm not cut out for this role but desperate times and all…" he folded his arms and frowned "These really are desperate times… anyway. We're going to Riftweald Manor to see if Mercer left any clues. My gut instinct is that anything we find is going to be another trap, but… there's no choice. We have to spring it in order to get at him."

Cathryne nodded, she knew that Brynjolf was right; any pursuit of Mercer was going to be on Mercer's terms with him fully aware of their every move. He'd been keen enough to foresee her survival at the manor and the subtle changes in attitudes towards him – it was no exaggeration to think that he might have anticipated their survival and set further traps in the event of anyone pursuing him.

"Well. What're we waiting for?" she offered him a bold smile "Let's go get Mercer's head."

"Aye! It'll look great on a spike outside the door." Brynjolf grinned.

They left the Cistern and walked out in to Riften cemetery. The night air was filled with the heady scent of Nightshade and the distinct aroma of burnt wood. Brynjolf motioned for Cathryne to follow him and they crept down a small side street towards a row of houses. He gestured towards one and whispered "Riftweald Manor…"

"Let's get inside." Cathryne crouched before the locked garden gate, and was bemused by the simple novice lock which took very little teasing before it gave way. The gate opened and they stealthily trespassed in to Mercer's backyard.

Brynjolf pulled a dagger from a sheath on his hip, a simple iron dagger, which he then threw at a section of the first floor balcony. A rope snapped under the balcony causing a platform to unfold which then offered a way in to the tightly sealed manor. They climbed up the outside staircase and on to the platform, the door before them had another simple lock which was easily picked.

"Ready lass?" Brynjolf looked at her.

"Ready!" Cathryne replied as she pushed the door open.

~ End of Chapter 12 ~

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><p>^^ Now that I'm starting to feel better it's getting easier to write! I'm also filled with inspiration for some other stories I want to do once this one is concluded~!<p>

I've really got the Skyrim bug bad...! Can't... stop... writing and.. playing! :D

(As always; thank you so much to everyone for favouriting / reviewing / commenting on this story. It really does inspire me and I'm grateful for all the interest you've shown! You're all amazing!)


	13. Chapter 13: The Hunt

Dear reader,

The Thieves Guild survived a trial by fire and now the guild members are keen to hue retribution from Mercer Frey's hide. However, in order to gain vengeance, they will have to find their former Guild Master. Brynjolf has grudgingly accepted the mantle of Guild Master to ensure that this happens, the hunt is on!

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><p><strong>Stolen Heart<strong>

_By: Anonymous_

- Chapter 13: The Hunt -

The manor was lavish. With the exception of the homes of Jarls and nobles, Cathryne had never seen such exuberance. It was obscene and yet very befitting of Mercer and his attitude. The moment they entered the manor, the sound of footsteps had startled them and they quickly piled in to the nearest room; the bedroom.

Brynjolf was rummaging through every single piece of furniture in sight for leads on Mercer's whereabouts. The contents of several wardrobes and chests lay strewn over the floor and even the immaculately laid bed was left in disarray.

"Nothing here." He finally concluded "How are things looking out there?"

"Clear on the upper level but there are people downstairs." Cathryne replied, glancing out at the hallway through a small crack in the door.

"We'll have to get rid of them." Brynjolf said as he joined her by the door. "You keep looking up here. I'll go and sort them out."

"Are you sure?" Cathryne asked, looking up at him.

"Positive. You've got enough blood on your hands because of this guild." He smiled at her "Even if it's mostly Dragon's blood."

"Alright. I won't argue with you… Guild Master."

He scowled at her and slapped her firmly on the backside "That is your one and only warning, lass. Next time I'll have to be rough with you."

She yelped at the sharp stinging on her behind then grinned at him "Is that a threat, or a promise?"

"Mmmm… perhaps both? Let's see how things end up, eh?" he opened the door and disappeared downstairs to face the mercenaries.

Cathryne watched him leave, she smiled to herself her thoughts dwelled on how deeply she'd fallen for Brynjolf. With that thought in mind, she resolved to do everything she could to help him, and his guild, which would begin with sorting out Mercer. She stood up and walked towards the nearby store room.

The mercinaries were engrossed in a game of cards, a small pile of coins and the odd gemstone were stacked in the centre of a round table as four burly men stared one another down from behind their hands.

"I see ya and raise ya!" one said, throwing more coins on the pile.

"Yeah yeah. Big talk as ever but ya never have the balls to go 'till the end!" another jeered, also throwing coins on the pile "I raise."

"Not this again. Can't you two do anythin' without comparin' to each other?"

"Na!" The fourth laughed and took a swig of ale"These two compare everythin' … if ya get my meanin'…"

"Shut up, bastard!"

Brynjolf watched them quietly, they seemed to be engrossed in their game which was good if he was robbing them blind of all their worldly possessions, but he needed access to every room – to every possible clue that Mercer would have left. In this situation, their togetherness was a distinct hindrance. He couldn't slip in and kill one without three others noticing him and three on one was generally a pain in the arse that he could live without.

"I fold!" one of them growled before standing from the table "I'm gonna go have a piss."

"Yeah yeah run off little boy. Let the big men play."

The mercenary punched his comrade across the back of the head and stalked out of the room towards the toilet. Brynjolf followed him. The mercenary was stood with his back to Brynjolf, muttering about how lady luck must hate him.

"You have no idea, lad." Brynjolf thought as he dragged the edge of his ebony blade across the man's throat and quickly backed away to avoid being covered in blood.

He returned to his vantage point just outside of the sitting room where the mercenaries were playing cards. He bit his lip as he ran through the possible ways of taking out three mercenaries in his head. However, it seemed that _something_ was favouring him, whether it was a Daedra, a Divine or just dumb luck was irrelevant, another of the mercenaries threw his hand down and got up.

"Gonna go get another ale, anyone want one?"

"Aye." The other two called out as the third left to get another drink.

Brynjolf followed him as he disappeared down in to the basement. He readied his dagger as the man bent down to pick up some bottles of mead. He drove the keen tip of his dagger in to the back of the mercenary's neck and swiftly withdrew the blade, to be certain Brynjolf stabbed the mercenary in the chest as well. He then climbed back up the stairs and stalked towards the sitting room, his dagger in hand.

Two on one he could handle.

"Ha ha! Read 'em and weep!" one mercenary shouted at the other, he rose both his arms up in jubilation and laughed. "I do love takin' all yer gold!"

Brynjolf crept up behind the man and swiftly reached out. He grabbed him by the chin and tipped his head back before dragging the ebony blade over his exposed throat and pushing him off the chair and on to the floor. He then looked down at the last mercenary.

"Evening, lad." He said with a small smirk "Not a good one for you, I'm afraid."

"Shit!" The mercenary grabbed a sword from the table and stood up "I'm gonna make you pay!"

"Ah. To the pain, then?" Brynjolf replied and kicked the game table towards the man. A spray of cards and coins flew at him. The mercenary reached out to stop the table from hitting him, only to find that Brynjolf was beside him.

"N-No… please!" The mercenary uttered, his eyes wide with fear.

"Sorry lad. You caught me at a bad time. I'm not in a mood to show mercy." Brynjolf promptly stabbed the man in the chest and kicked him to the floor "Especially not for any of Mercer's rabble."

Cathryne walked in "All done?"

"Aye. Anything upstairs?" Brynjolf looked over at her and frowned as she shook her head "Damn. Guess we'll have to hope for something down here. I'll go check the basement."

"Alright. I'll look around in here." Cathryne crouched down to search the fallen mercenaries for clues.

Brynjolf returned to the basement, it was full of expensive food and imported mead. A small twinge of annoyance filled him as he looked at the decadence around him. The guild had not eaten this well for many years, yet Mercer was living a very lavish lifestyle. He began to wonder just how the traitorous Guild Master had managed it. His gut told him it was at the expense of everyone else…

"Brynjolf!" he looked up, it was Cathryne's voice.

"What?" he called, hurrying back up the stairs. He ran in to the room and found her standing before a hidden passage. He chuckled "Good work, lass."

They quickly descended the grimy staircase, it led them to a small secret tunnel which smelt distinctly like a sewer and made Brynjolf think of the Ratways. The stones were covered in the familiar greenish slime that most of the Ratway's tunnels were graced with and a distinct damp aroma hung in the air.

They walked quietly and cautiously down the hallway, tiptoeing over traps and making as little noise as they possibly could. The odd skeever lunged out to attack them, but the vermin were quickly dispatched by Brynjolf's blade and Cathryne's bow.

The claustrophobic pathways eventually opened up in to a small room which upon closer inspection seemed to be like a hidden office. A desk strewn with papers was Brynjolf's first target. Cathryne's eyes were drawn to a display case which she quickly went to examine.

"Ah… Here we are, this looks promising." Brynjolf picked up a piece of paper that had fallen down behind the desk "It's a map and Mercer's written something about an ancient treasure that could set him up for life in Cyrodil if he gets it."

"… Sounds like him." Cathryne replied, looking over from the display case "But… perhaps it's too obvious?"

"Like I said, lass. We need to spring a few traps if we're going to lay our hands on him."

It was true, but the thought of playing any further in to Mercer's hands left a sickening feeling in Cathryne's stomach "Yeah. You're right. Where's the map lead to?"

"Let's see… it's a map to an old tomb." He smirked at Cathryne "I have a fondness for old tombs these days…"

She blushed slightly and looked away "I don't know what you could be referring to…"

"Well lass, I might just have to make you remember… if we get a few moments to ourselves. For now, let's track Mercer down and make him regret crossing the guild." He gripped the map tightly, crumpling it in his fist.

She nodded and left the office with him, they escaped the manor and met up with Vex and Delvin just outside the Bee and Barb. Brynjolf explained the next move and rejected Delvin's offer to tag along. Vex glanced between Brynjolf and Cathryne, her gaze was keen. She had them figured out, her fist connected with Delvin's shoulder.

"Leave the lovebirds to it. They need some alone time." She teased.

Brynjolf coughed slightly and looked away "Now lass, there's no need to start assuming—"

"Oh put a sock in it, Bryn. You're not fooling anyone. You two are an item and… well. You're good together." Vex folded her arms and looked at each of them in turn "Go and do what you have to do with Mercer, then come back to us with some treasure. I don't really care what sort of relationship you two have. It's none of my business."

"Thank you Vex." Cathryne smiled "I'll make sure we get some shiny loot for the guild."

Brynjolf laughed and nodded "Aye lass. We'll bring home a fortune, will that make you crack a wee smile?"

Vex scowled at him "Up yours, Bryn."

~End of Chapter 13~

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><p>^^ It's strange, we're pretty much at the end of this story now - I'm so thrilled by all of the positive contributions that have been made by reviewers and favourite-rs. You really have helped to keep me inspired on this journey, so thank you all! See you in the final chapter! :D<p> 


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